Reteaching the Wise
by Ready-made Prodigy
Summary: After the recent death of his wife, Thanduil is now blinded by his grief and is convinced that Elrond and all of Imaldris is a threat to him and for assurance he will take something from the last homely house that is irreplaceable... it's Hope.
1. How it Began

**Title:** _Reteaching the Wise_

**Summary:** _After the recent death of his wife, Thranduil is now blinded by his grief. He is now convinced that Imaldris is a threat and wants assurance. Fate is going to make sure that not even hope remains in the last homely house. _

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing. Nothing more to it._

**A/N:** _I'm not dead, but life seems to thoroughly demand that I stay in reality. Being winter break I have taken some time to write again. I may not get back to my other lotr story, so that'll have to be put on hold. School sucks, but I'm in band and that makes it slightly bearable. Here we go! _

**-O-O-O-O-O-**

Elrond's irritation was rising with every possible moment that he was forced to stay in audience with the elf that sat in front of him. The most impressive part of this amazing feat was that the said elf had yet to say anything. Lord Elrond, great and powerful as he was, finally yielded to the pompous face and to the proper manners that was required of him.

"Greetings Ènfin. I hope that your trip was well," Elrond said behind gritted teeth.

"Of course, thank you for asking. In fact, it was a very uneventful one. Your borders seem to be very peaceful considering the fact that barely a year ago you were begging for aid against the apparent 'onslaught' of orcs and wargs," Ènfin answered snidely.

Elrond's hands balled into fists at his sides. Ènfin was the chief advisor of Mirkwood and after the decline of the king he had grown in power. After the fairly recent, for elves at least, death of King Thranduil's wife he had slowly spiraled into a depression, coupled with the continual rise in heavy loses from the spider and orc infestation Mirkwood has been on a very steady decline.

"Yes, thanks to the help you so willingly given to us."

Ènfin's eyes blazed, "Mirkwood hasn't even achieved what you have here in your quaint little house when our warriors go to battle almost every day," Elrond's insides twisted as he saw Ènfin start to smile as he abruptly changed the subject, "You know, Mirkwood and Rivendell haven't been on such good terms as of late…"

Elrond resisted the urge to say, 'You don't say.'

"Since you were able to rid yourself of your orc problems so quickly that you would use your growing powers as an advantage over out dwindling ones."

Elrond looked at him with alarm. "You aren't accusing us of going against our own brethren! You cannot be alluding to another kinslaying!"

Ènfin was now standing and strutting about the room. "This is why we shall take some collateral or reassurance, if you will."

Elrond froze. "You can't be serious. Surely King Thranduil will not approve…"

Ènfin cut across him. "Oh, but he does! That is why I have been sent here. I have the signed documents right here. If you do not offer some collateral then Mirkwood will declare war on this house."

Elrond, who had somehow found himself standing, let himself fall back into his chair. How could this have happened? Yes, relations had been stretched and tensions rather stiff, but he never thought it would come to this. What answer could he give, for Elrond knew what kind of 'reassurance' Ènfin was demanding. It was not gold or supplies of any sort. Ènfin wanted a personal supplement: a chief advisor or most likely a part of the royal family. Elrond let his hand run through his hair.

Just then all the occupants of the room heard a crash and then hurried footsteps that grew louder louder, approaching at a fair speed. Suddenly, the door burst open and just as quickly closed again by a youth with dark brown, shoulder length hair looking positively windswept. He pressed his ear against the door, but took an involuntary step back as furious yells came from the other side.

"If I find you doodling in that book again I shall rip out you lungs until you turn blue, put them back in you, and the strangle you!" Came the muffles yells of what vaguely sounded like Rivendell's librarian.

The youth grimaced. "Sorry, it won't happen again, I promise," then after a slight pause he added, "At least they were nice pictures."

"If you mean the quality then yes, they are fairly nice, but I'm sure Lord Erestor would not like a picture depicting him as a bat elf with a beard and covered in dust and cobwebs while lecturing about one of you and your brother's little adventures," the librarian returned.

He continued on about something, but the youth turned back to face Lord Elrond and suddenly realized that there was a visitor in the room. He gave a quick bow to Ènfin, who was watching the boy with mounting interest.

"I apologize for any disturbance that I may have caused. I have my morning history lessons here and was unaware that my father had an engagement."

"You're late you know," Elrond said, matter of factly from behind his desk.

"I'm sorry, I was having a dilemma." Estel smiled mischievously.

Elrond returned the smile warmly. "Clearly," he turned to Ènfin dispassionately, "I need a few moments to speak with my son. If you will wait I shall get back to you shortly." He motioned the boy closer and the spoke in lowered tones.

Ènfin was astounded. _Father? Son!_ He could see that the boy was human, but the way the two interacted. It was strange. Elrond's eyes had just…just… Ènfin's smile returned. Elrond's eyes just clouded. This boy was his weakness.

"He will do fine Lord Elrond. I want his bags packed by tomorrow because we will leave on the following morning."

Both Elrond and Estel turned a confused look at Ènfin, but a look of dread was starting to settle into Elrond's features.

"No…please, he isn't even 16 yet! We do not know how long this could last. He's human and this elvish feud could last most of his entire life span!" Elrond was clutching the boy's shoulders.

"Would you rather me took one of you twin sons? Or perhaps your beautiful daughter?" Ènfin gave off an aura of triumph.

"This is madness, he has nothing to do with this!"

Ènfin looked directly into the boy's bewildered and slightly frightful face. "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself and maybe even your freedom to keep your home and family safe?"

The answer was immediate, without doubt, said by a straight backed youth who knew what he was saying, but did not yet understand what his answer would come to mean. Estel returned the other's gaze with his own, both fierce and spirited with a fire and drive that was all his own.

"Yes."

If he had looked behind to his father he would have seen the shadow of despair that adorned his face and the unshed tears waiting for a more private time.


	2. Faraway Farewells

**Reteaching the Wise  
Faraway Farewells**

A/N: Lol, I've just been on the doodle/scribble pad on my friend's myspace for like two and a half hours. If you haven't gotten into myspace and don't know what a digital doodle pad is then I advise you look into either since they are so addicting. Yes, I admit it. I am a proud myspace whore. Lol, it's a terrible habit and it's prolly why I got a 'B' in biology. Oh well, on with ze story.

Reviewer Responses:

me- **_Thanks for the encouragement! Yes, whooo score! You were my first reviewer._**  
**Nietta-** **_I'm working on it! working furiously, but suddenly sidetracked by a sandwich on a string Aragorn sniggers in the corner. "This'll make sure she doesn't get back to making my life miserable!"_**  
**Imaginima-** **_YEAH! ORIGINAL STORY PLOT! I'm so awesome. Thanks for the comment, it made me very happy._**  
**UnnamedElement-** **_You're right, there wasn't any description at all. I'll work on that during this chapter. My first chapter was actually just really spontaneous. I didn't even know I'd start writing again. OMG, brilliant? Me? Hellz yes!_**

**P.S.: Has anyone noticed something a bit odd about the name Ènfin? Yes, it's a different language, but not one so far from the modern world. Well most of my other elven names will have the same origin too, so if anyone can identify which MODERN language they originate from and what the English translation is then I'll…shower you with praise and you'll be known as my most…prized reviewer or something like that.**

PSS: There will have be no more accents on the elven names cause I'm still figuring out this new computer I'm now using.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-  


"How could you allow this to happen father!" Elladan stormed about the room, wanting to break anything in sight. Thus he sorely wished that Ènfin would have the bad fortune to wander into the room, mistaking it for a bathroom.

"Surely if you had pressed and argued further…" Elrohir trailed off as he sat bandaging a small cut on Estel's left index finger. Ènfin had insisted on the old custom of signing in blood.

It wouldn't be much of an intelligent remark if one was to observe that the twins were not at all happy with this situation.

"There was no other way. Ènfin was very determined and with such a forceful ultimatum father was not in a position to do much else," Estel pressed.

"There's always something," Ellandan persisted, but his tone was beginning to soften. He didn't really blame anyone but Mirkwood, though it was always easier to be able to focus your rage on a single thing. Now that he was starting to simmer down his logical mind swept over the situation and his disjointed anger started to evaporate. 

Elrond, however, couldn't help the terrible hopelessness of the situation. He felt like he had abandoned his son, had betrayed his trust in him, and inside the very darkest corner in his heart he could hear the harsh whispers of slavery and cruelty that he had willingly signed his own son into.

"No, it's better this way. I will have no one die for my sake, nor would I rejoice if anyone else was to be taken in my stead," Estel stated bluntly.

Elrohir shook his head despairingly as he tied up the small bandage. "That is because he have no idea what is in store for you. If Ènfin is an example of the attitude that Rivendell is held in, then you are going to be treated like some grand trophy of their triumph. You'll probably endure more prejudice and biasness that you have ever experienced here. You may even grow old there, made to rot as a prisoner or, as they will call it, a guest of war."

Elladan joined in. "You think it's some kind of adventure. A vacation to finally get away from home, but it's not Estel."

Estel put a hand on both his brothers but his eyes met those of his father. "No, I accept this as my duty to this house and to my family who would and have done everything for me. This is my responsibility to repay all the kindness and nurturing. Your safety is all the reward I shall need for my suffering. I have bore ridicule before and I shall do it again in triumph knowing that my house will still be standing and welcoming when I get back. 'When,' not 'if' but when."

Elrond pulled his son into a tight hug, soon engulfed also by the twins.

"Oh Estel, you're worth so much more than you think. What have I ever done to deserve such a noble and valiant son?"

Estel pulled out of the almost suffocating embrace. "Well, you could take us on a picnic tomorrow."

Elrond smiled. "Of course my son. You always seem to know the best way to end a conversation." 

**---O---  
**  
The twins and Estel stood patiently in the dining room awaiting their father and the succulent picnic basket that the kitchen staff had eagerly promised. While they waited many of the people attending breakfast came over to talk with Estel, some saying goodbyes and others thank you's. Estel was touched, giving the same sad smile to all. Others were giving dark glares or scowls at Ènfin and his party. Finally, their father arrived dragging an enormous 'basket' although it look more like a wicker trunk.

As they passed by the area where Ènfin was sitting Elladan whispered, "I wouldn't drink anything on this table or you might find that your insides will burn away and the most that will survive would be some of the denser bones and a bit of your cold and scourged heart."

"The poison makes it look like the liquid's is simply fizzy and you won't notice until it scorches all the way down your putrid throat," Elrohir added menacingly.

With that, the twins hurried to join the rest of the family.

Ènfin gave a good chuckle. "An empty threat. Such an immature joke."

Erestor, who did not even grace Ènfin by looking up from his tea, with a rather flat voice said, "No, an immature prank would mean things like non-venomous but lethal serpents or animals infected with rabies found lurking in you room."

"Yes, the twins were being very serious," Glorfindel responded.

Although Ènfin just chuckled further at that he could have sworn he saw a few bubbles in his cup and refrained from drinking anything for the rest of the meal or any other meals that the twins were present at.

The day went spectacularly for the Elrondians. They hiked up to a refreshing mountain area, where a waterfall cascaded into a clear pool with copper colored rocks on the bottom, making it all glitter beautifully in the cheery sun. They swam and raced, swapped stories and went to all the places that held good memories. They even had a small archery contest. Elrond commented on how fortunate that Estel was going to Mirkwood for perhaps even being in the mere presence of their legendary archers would improve his aim. Estel purposefully shot very near to his father, but successfully proved his point by instead pinning Elladan, who was a good fifteen feet from his father) to the grass by his cloak.

In the evening there was a great feast in Estel's honor and there was eating, drinking, and celebrating that was usually only done in such caliber during Yule (celebration during Winter Solstice). Estel had even won a few sparring matches with his brothers and even Glrofindel. He had used a couple new tricks he had saved from when the rangers had passed through. When all the merry making had finally worn the young human out, he headed up to his room.

He was met with a depressing sight. While he was out, his room had been stripped of all his essential things that he would need for his trip and many of his most personal items were also carefully stashed away. His bed and other major furniture were all covered in long white sheets in order to keep the dust away and the balcony doors were tightly shut, which was unusual in such good weather.

His brothers had caught up to him and led him away from the sorry sight. Estel suppressed a tear as his bedroom door was shut behind him. It might be a very long time before he'd be able to open it again. He was slightly surprised when they escorted him to his father's room, but too tired to protest against their gentle treatment as they tucked him into bed. He was soon asleep with his brothers keeping watch. Soon even they had fallen asleep across the sofa at the foot of the bed. Elrond eventually made his way up to his room and watched his children sleep. Knowing that he needed no invitation he climbed into the bed beside his son and started to rub the child's back in slow circles. Because he faced the boy's back he was not able to see the contented smile on his son's face, but it did not matter for he knew it was there.

"Always remember ion-nin, I shall love you forever."

_Don't forget…  
_  
**---O---  
**  
Aragorn mounted his copper stallion after receiving the last farewells of his friends and family. His father stood at his side, while his brothers did yet another check of all his bags and supplies.

"Now remember Estel I want a letter every two weeks and I expect all your scheduled assignments to be included also. I've written to all of the major tutors there, but I want you to personally talk to them. Estel the healing supplies and various herbs are in the beige bag with the red tag and…"

Estel clasped his father's hand and squeezed it firmly. "Ada, it'll be ok."

"You've cheated me ion-nin. I'm the parent, I'm supposed to be the one comforting you," Elrond said.

"Aye, but I'm not the one panicking at the moment."

At once Elrond's sullen attitude changed abruptly to his stern 'I'm about to give you a lecture' attitude. "This is not panic, young one. This is merely a strong concern."

Estel chuckled, trying to put in whatever merriness he had left in his aching heart. The twins had been grim the entire time and had hardly spoken, but he wished they would because he wanted to make sure he could instill their voices and their laughs forever in his memory. That way he'd have something to familiar to listen to when loneliness consumed his weary soul.

Both Elladan and Elrohir stepped back after finishing their examination. Elrohir clasped his hand.

"Estel you need to remember to take your daily draughts. Don't ever overexert yourself. It doesn't matter what they'll say about it. Your health must always come first. If what happened last summer repeats itself ada won't be there to save you." Elrohir finally allowed a single tear escape his stolid composure.

"I grasp the gravity of my situation Elrohir. I promise to be careful," he tried smiling again, but the corners of his mouth just gave a half hearted twitch, "Valar knows that now without you two to occupy my thoughts I'll be able to remember these things."

Elladan stepped up, signaling for Estel to bend closer. He handed him a small neatly wrapped package. His voice was soft, but sharp.

"When you are sure that no one is watching I want you to unwrap this and secure it. I want it with you wherever you are at all times. Please Estel, it'll help me go to sleep much easier knowing that I've given you that much more of an advantage."

"Well…," his throat constricted painfully and he stumbled haphazardly over the next words, "goodbye…"

With that he quickly started his horse forward and using every once of his will he did not look back, not once. His family would not have to see the hot tears that coursed down his cheeks.

They rode out of Rivendell and into the wilds. Most of the trip was blurred for Estel, whose interest seemed to elude him. His thoughts and musings were constantly interrupted by an elf whose hair was more the color of sand instead of the normal golden that the Silvan elves were blessed with. Estel could have sworn that the elf talked so much about himself or what he's done or seen that his eye had developed a permanent twitch to the sound of the elf's irritating voice. They did not stop at all until well into the night. Estel's back and shoulders ached and burned past his endurance, but not a single complaint left his lips. The dozen or so elves started to make camp. The extremely verbal elf was still giving an expansive account about something even more stupid then he had been saying before.

Estel helped gather firewood and sat around the fire with everyone else to have some bread and dried meat. He chose not to join in on any of the conversations and kept to himself.

"Psst, hey human!" One of the elves threw a bit of bread at him.

Taking a deep and calming breath Estel looked up to the one addressing him.

"You know although you are correct in guessing my race, that is not who I am, so if you would be so kind as to calling me by my name it would be much appreciated," Estel said coolly.

"Oh yeah? You don't know my name," the elf spat.

"You're Être. Funny thing about not talking tends to lead to the process of listening to other people, but anyway I'm Estel, pleased to meet you."

The elf looked at him with loathing written all over. Estel knew he was being extremely rude, but he really didn't feel up with making an effort to actually be civil to people who weren't going to ever give him that same courtesy.

"Suara' huan!" the elf's companion said, coming to his friend's defense.

"I'm curious if you are perhaps aware that I understand both Sindarin and Quenya and that I'm meant to understand the insult or that you think that I'm so ignorant as not being able to learn the language I had been brought up in," Estel queried, thoroughly interested in the elves' reactions. "And I already thought it had established that I was human, dogs aren't even the same species."

With that he walked away. It was a warm night, being still spring, so it did not bother him much by moving his sleeping mat away from the main group and the cheery fire. He settled down, thinking of home. He was just starting to get comfortable and sleep starting to creep into his tired body when something smacked onto the top of his head. Estel put a hand up to his stinging head. Another came to whack smartly onto his shoulder. Still rubbing his head he glanced up into a neighboring tree where several of the elves had taken residence for the night.

The extremely talkative elf, Aprés, was standing with several acorns in his hand. A few of the others, Être included, stood around him carrying the same thing, some had a few pinecones as well. They threw a couple more. To Estel's credit he was able to dodge a majority of them while still in his sitting position. Actually hitting him wasn't really the point though; just throwing things at him was insult enough.

"Having a nice sleep, human?" Après drawled.

"I seem," he dodged an especially large acorn, "to have a bit of a problem with inanimate objects choosing to randomly hurl themselves," he avoided yet another, "at me."

"Your arrogance is appalling. You shame your elven family. I would think you'd be well trained when speaking to your betters." Après viciously threw a rock in Estel's direction.

Estel caught the stone deftly in his left hand and tightened it around his fist.

"Well, since you are certainly not my better I do not find that I need to restrain myself at all. I am not lower than any man or elf! Those who gain my respect are those who deserve it. I have only given it to a dozen or so people and since you think you live up to the standard of the likes of Lord Elrond or Glorfindel than that must certainly be much more arrogance than what you claim of me."

Estel chucked the stone into the tree they stood in. The elves roared with laughter as the rock sailed ineffectively into the leaves. It was fairly justified for it was a poor shot indeed. All of a sudden there was a rustling and then two small pelts of fur dashed on to the elves. There was a huge confusion as the elves tried batting off their assailants, but mainly losing their balance and having to jump off into the nearby trees. Après, who was holding the most nuts, was assaulted brutally by, what was now identified as squirrels, and lost his balance completely, falling into the bushes below the branch.

Estel hardly took pleasure in any of this as he strode away into the darkened wood. When he was a little ways from the camp he hunkered down onto the ground and resting his arms on his propped up knees. In this smaller position he noticed a slight poking sensation in one of his pockets. Remembering Elladan's package, he looked suspiciously from side to side. When he was sure that no one was around he carefully unwrapped the package. In it was a small throwing knife. The blade and handle together was barely more than half the length of his hand. It's width was exceptionally thin, but it did not bend at all. The blade was shaped much like a leaf and had dark engraved elvish words upon both sides of the shining blade. Estel had to squint in order to read them in the moonlit night. On one side it read 'Hope' and on the other 'Light'.

There was no sheath, but it came with adjustable leather straps that would help harness it to his arms or legs. The leather too was an achievement in craftsmanship, the designs inlaid with silver slivers. He tried it on his wrist and with even a slight flick, the blade would fly to his hand. Estel noticed a small note that had gotten tangled with some of the wrapping paper. He pulled it out to discover the prominent elvish handwriting of Elladan.

_We weren't going to give this to you for a while yet, but times have called for its service once again. These were the common weapon used by Noldor assassins long ago. Stay safe._

Oh, and Elrohir says "hi" 

Estel's mirth towards the last statement was bellied by a strong sense of foreboding. Would he truly ever have to use this as a last resort? Or perhaps just as a surprise assault on a quick revenge. He let his mind swirl around dark thoughts, though his attention was not so diverted that he heard the soft whisper that had come to mean much for him. It was the soft steps of elven feet. He made sure that his sleeve covered all of the straps before addressing the newcomer.

"I wasn't going to go much farther than this," Estel assured the unknown elf.

"It was my orders to make sure of that."

The words did not drip with malice nor of any ill will. Finally…

An older elf with the more stereotypical golden blonde hair of the woodland elves appeared at Estel's left side. He wore the kindest face that he had seen directed toward him during the entire trip. Deep inside him, past the anger, Estel fervently hoped that this was finally some one he could that, if not on his side, was not on the other's side either.

"May I sit down, Estel?" he asked politely.

"Yes, thank you for using my name. I was starting to think that I'd forget it and only remember to respond to those dratted things like, 'human' or 'boy'," Estel said irately.

"Après was somewhat right, you know. You should learn to curve your tongue a bit more. Especially if you know you're going to have to tolerate the presence of those people you are insulting for an extended period of time. I'm captain Iridor, by the way."

Estel sighed as he shook the elf's hand. "I'm truly sorry, but I'm just tired of all the biasness and the way I'm immediately treated by people I have barely even met. It grates on my nerves that I have to constantly prove myself."

Iridor turned to him. "But it is the only way to truly win their respect and trust. Besides, it is really worth nothing if it was not gained through your own blood and efforts."

"I just wish they would give me a chance to do it," Estel said gloomily.

"Well, I still say skillfully attacking my men with rampant squirrels is not the best way to start off a long and grueling task towards friendship."

Estel smiled. "Perhaps not, but I'm sure that there will be a fight sooner or later."

Isidor nodded. "Are you afraid to lose to an elf?"

Estel gave a weak chuckle. "If that were so, then I'd have never learned to fight. No, just losing doesn't sound too appealing at all."

"You can never truly be defeated if you just keep taking one breath followed be another so that you have the strength to eventually get up once more," Isidor said sagely. "Or so I try to teach, but you've had the misfortune to meet those who do not hold neither mine or my brother's teachings in much high regaurd."

"Well, I suppose then that it's best for me to perhaps best for me to learn from you. Are you a combat instructor?" Estel asked eagerly.

"Yes, and you have already been enrolled by your father, but I must question on the reason that your training must only last for a maximum of only one and a half hours."

Estel face reddened. "Um, well my endurance is rather poor."

The captain raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Do you not think that pushing yourself would improve it?"

"In some extreme cases in the past I have unfortunately found that an exertion of my limits have come to negative outcomes in my health," Estel's voice held a tone of finality and Iridor dropped the subject.

"Then I must say that the best victory you can presently gain is one of politeness." Iridor's eyes twinkled merrily.

Estel looked directly into the captain's kindly eyes. "Congratulations, you've made it on my be-grateful-to-have-met-them list."

Isidor laughed heartily. "I'm honored. Come, we must go back to camp. Énfin will be getting cranky. Have hope, I've talked with my men and they surely won't be as quick to taunt you after tonight's display."

Estel followed him back, allowing his face to drift upwards into the heavens praying that perhaps Isidor was right. The gods had already put him in a doomful predicament maybe they could grant him favor just this once?

--O--

Estel stifled the gasp of surprise and groan as he was kicked…yet again. Even though both parties had not said much to each other, the elves seemed to think that it was necessary to give him a good kick whenever they walked passed him or trip him just when a mud puddle happened upon them. Iridor had tried defending him, but the elves would appeal to Enfin, who didn't seem to notice a difference in treatment at all. Estel was miserable since he was determined to not retaliate…for the moment.

After long and grueling days of travel they neared the palace within the vast forest of Mirkwood. Estel felt that there was something wrong here. Not only did the forest look dark, but it darkened the spirits of those who entered it. Estel felt shivers run up his back. It was so cold here, a creeping chill that whispered around your very heart. The silence seemed to be the very air itself and would enter your body with every breath you took.

The gates were opened and they rode inside. Estel was starting to feel the effects of anxiety as he was ushered along to the palace entrance. He thought that he would see the kind immediately, but to his dismay a large group of elves were gathered in the courtyard and he knew that Elrohir was right. Enfin was going to flaunt his spoils.

Enfin grabbed him roughly by the arm to present to the crowd.

"We have succeeded! Rivendell has bowed down to Mirkwood's might. I present to you the beloved adopted son of Lord Elrond, a trophy of Rivendell's submission!" Enfin exclaimed into the cheering crowd.

Estel held his head up high and let his disgust show in his eyes. Mirkwood was going through troubled times indeed if they were going to rejoice in such a petty victory as this. Though Estel was pleased and relieved to see that at least have of those gathered did not show approval. Enfin dragged him through the crowd and finally into the palace.

The palace was incredible. Grand tapestries hung from the ceilings, which towered high above his head most of them having wide windows cut in, showing the vast blue sky above. It made Estel almost forget he was halfway in the mountain.

Enfin led him through dozens of twists and turns, every hallway leading into an even larger maze. Estel tried to memorize everything, but it all seemed to blur together in the unending paths of corridors that seemed to all look so similar. Finally, Enfin stopped at a door with great carvings dug deeply into the rich, dark wood.

"We have returned my king." Enfin did not even disguise the pride in his voice.

Estel bowed low in respect towards the king, back still bent he said, "Saesa Omentien lle, haran-nin," Estel erected himself once again, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my king. I am Estel, youngest son of Elrond. I have come at your bidding to provide for assurance of cooperation between Mirkwood and Imaldris."

Estel gave a similar greeting to the elf who leaned against the side of the desk on Thranduil's right. By the close resemblance between the two, Estel inferred that that must be the king's son, Prince Legolas.

Ignoring Estel, Thranduil frowned at Enfin. "Enfin, have you allowed yourself to be tricked by Elrond's cunning? The boy's a human."

"He was adopted and a can assure you that the Lord of Rivendell counts him as highly as his own blood," Enfin encouraged.

"Indeed, then it will be your duty, Legolas," he looked at his son, "to be his escort at all times unless he is left with any of the elder elves."

Legolas looked outraged. "Baby sitting is no duty of a prince!"

The king met his son's anger with his own. "But as prince it is your duty to obey your king and I have assigned you the responsibility of this alliance and you shall obey it. Understood?"

Legolas gritted his teeth against the angry retort he was about to gie, but answered instead with a quick, "Yes father," before leaving the room, with a disgruntled Estel at his heals.

Without taking any notice of the human Legolas stomped up to his room. He wrenched open the door and Estel barely had time to scurry into the room before he slammed it shut. He paced about the room shooting death glares at Estel. Estel, already ill-tempered with the way he was carelessly regarded nothing above a desired commodity, snapped at the brooding prince.

"You don't need to be so sullen. It's not as if he ordered you to be my friend!"

"Oh yes, just to take you in as a pet," Legolas said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Estel threw down his small personal pack that he carried and quickly switched to elvish. "What makes me less of a person than you! Why am I the burden of everyone's troubles when I was the one who was forced to come here!"

Legolas bristled indignantly and jabbed at a door to his left. "Just get into the room over there."

Estel picked up his bag and trudged into the room.

"I'll unlock you when dinner starts." He closed the door behind him and Estel heard the click of a metallic lock.

When he was sure Legolas was out of hearing distance he flopped down onto the bed and let out the choked sob he had been holding back all day. He hated this place and he hated almost everyone in it. It had been less than a week away from home and he was dearly wishing that he could wake up in his own room and have a good laugh about this ridiculous nightmare he had fallen into. The valar hated him.

What had he ever done to be cursed in such a cruel fashion? Estel groaned into the pillow. It was that vase depicting a scene of the birthing of the world made by the skillful elves of the beginning of time itself. He knew he shouldn't have hid it and not told anyone. Estel cursed softly.

Only an hour and a half later Legolas unlocked his door and Estel followed him to the dining hall.

"We never finished our conversation earlier," Estel said grudgingly. He wasn't about to let this go.

Legolas sighed in exasperation. "Fine then. Do you want to know why humans are such witless creatures? For one thing, they die. They're also greedy, power mad, insensitive…"

"Hardly any of those reasons are valid since they cannot apply to all humans. It would be the same as me arguing that elves glow and they have the annoying ability to have superiority complexes over everyone and since they're all so 'wise' they think that that's the way it should be," Estel countered.

"Now that was just blown out of proportion."

"Well, so was your reasoning," Estel pushed.

"You humans still die," Legolas continued.

"As I recall mortality was a gift bestowed upon us by the great maker," Estel replied.

"And what good is dying," Legolas asked, now thoroughly annoyed with the conversation.

"Peace."

Legolas waved him off as they neared closer to the dining hall doors. "You can obtain peace in life."

"And have you?" Estel pressed.

Legolas, who had his hands on the oak doors, paused and swiveled around to face him. His eyes held an odd look in them and Estel knew that he had struck a cord. Legolas gave him one last glare before pushing the heavy doors to enter into dinner.

Estel couldn't get the look out of head? What was it? Estel recognized the shadow of grief that had passed over his features, but there was something else…a glimpse to an inner sufferance.

After dinner Legolas and Estel headed back to their rooms. Legolas not saying a word or even looking at the human behind him. The moment Estel had stepped in his room Legolas took out the key to the room to lock his door once again.

Estel looked at him in alarm. "Why are you locking me in again?"

"If you aren't being watched then you are to be detained," Legolas explained prudently.

"I thought you only locked me up earlier because I provoked you. Is this is how it will be for the rest of my stay?" Estel asked despairingly.

In answer Legolas shut the door in his questioning face and locked the door.

And that was how Estel met Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.


	3. The First of Many Firsts

**A/N: winces terribly I HAD SOOO MANY TYPOS AND MISTAKES ON THE LAST CHAPTER! Ugh, I hate my carelessness. It really bothers me because I know that when a writer has even a few mistakes on their stories I can't help but lose a bit of respect, but when I reread my own I was about to kill myself. I just get really excited because I finish and I get to see all those happy reviews that give me that happy proud feeling and then I forget all about editing. Girr, I promise to proof read better.**

**Reviewer Responses:**

**_Lyn: _Lol, you sound like my old language arts teacher (which is good, he was a very respectable guy). Yes, I have trouble with tenses a lot of the time. Oh my god yes, but I try and ALWAYS put emphasis on remembering those stupid mistakes, like my biggest peeve is 'to' and 'too'. I really hate that people don't realize that 'too' is an INTENSIFIER! Also, 'a lot'. Two words people. Thank you, I love to hear that people think it's well written. I personally have doubts on my development of plot and the complements make it so I'm motivated to make sure it's even better. Yay, I'm talented in more than just blowing big bubbles! **

**_Tatie-Valie_: Yeah, I really loved the idea of the hostage situation. It gives me so much room for inner conflict around the background story and the characters. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for this update!**

**_Nietta:_ I kinda had the typical "loving foster family" that has been portrayed a lot on these lotr stories, but I'm happy that you thought it was touching. Yeah I'm not too much of a signing in fan either. That's why I'm usually the 'crazyAZN kid' in reviewing. Mmhmm, the Estel-Legolas thing shall prove interesting indeed. **

**_Tmelange:_ Thank you kindly! I hope you keep checking in with the story and give more merry reviews in future.**

**_Hanci:_ I'm constantly trying to get out of that shell of cliché storylines and views that have grown from the original ideas made from Cassia and Siobhan. Yup, poor Estel is on his own, hopefully he'll win some friends over just as he had in Rivendell. I hope you continue reading my story and giving more encouraging reviews! **

**_angel:_ Lol yays, someone got it. You win! Feel pride cause you're the only one who got it. I'm overjoyed that I have another reviewer remarking about my original storyline. Above all I want to strive above the monotonous amounts of writers who are writing the same story only worse. I hope you stick around with me a while yet. Things shall be revealed!**

**---O---**

After Legolas had locked Estel in, he made his way to Enfin's study as he was asked. Legolas couldn't say that he liked his father's advisor very much. Enfin's authority had swelled over the years and even surpassed Legolas' own, both when it came to his father or his people. That bothered him…greatly. Nevertheless Enfin was a shrewd tactician. Long ago he had fought in the old battles where Sauron's evil had darkened the world. He was there in the Last Alliance and there he had lost his ability to fight. He had received two arrows and a severe stab wound in the same leg. His right arm and left hand had also been broken beyond repair. Even now, when ages had passed and gone, the elf is forced to limp and both arms no longer able to support the weight of a sword. Enfin's had always been bitter about his handicap, but endured and his experience and long service has garnered respect towards his him and his council.

Enfin stood at the open window of his room, the stars blinking in the twilight. He did not turn when Legolas made his presence known. He kept staring into the stretching sky, looking for something that was not there.

"Prince Legolas, your father has instructed that you read all the boy's letters and report anything out of the ordinary to me."

"You need not ornament your orders with my father's name," Legolas replied.

"You will do this task, _prince. _He has been bid by Lord Elrond to write every two weeks. See to it that they are taken proper care of," Enfin said underhandedly.

Not allowing any hint of emotion to slip into his voice he said simply, "It will be done."

As Legolas headed back to his room he muttered under his breath, "Not only must I be his nurse maid, but a post man also."

He lay on his bed and tried to find rest, but it was still early in the night. He didn't sleep much anymore anyways. Dreams plagued his mind and left his body shaking. It was weak and pathetic, but even though they were the only times he could see her face again he hated the fact that it must affect him so. When his mother had died, he and his father's relationship had somewhat broken over the years. Legolas and Thranduil were so much of the same person that they had not gone to each other for comfort. Both simply gave the other space and room for their own grieving, not wanting to bother the other and eventually leading to an inevitable gap between the two of them.

Legolas' thoughts were interrupted by a firm knocking that came from the guest room on his left. Legolas gave a groan. He was really getting tired of having to unlock and lock that door. He was also rather disgruntled that he had lost the balcony that looked out over the gardens to some human. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed and got the door open to find himself face to face with Estel.

"It's freezing here, do you have some extra blankets?" the boy asked, shivering slightly to emphasize his point.

Legolas looked about the room that was in full disarray. Clothes had been piled in various areas of the room, papers were strewn across the desk, and books seemed to have rained down from the very ceiling itself for they were in randomly placed piles all across the room. Legolas noticed an odd smell about the room. It wasn't bad at all, in fact it smelt fresh and pure, but it seemed it fill up his entire being and it made him feel rather uncomfortable. He scanned the room for its source and saw that there was something boiling above the flames.

"What have you done to this room?" Legolas asked incredulously, "It looked like a storm blew in."

Estel scrunched up his nose to show his distaste. "Your servants were kind enough to put away all my things, but they were not in the way I'm used to, so I decided to relocate everything."

"It looks like chaos itself," Legolas said, picking up a heavy volume from his feet and tossing it onto the already laden bed.

"But it's organized chaos," Estel pointed out.

Legolas could only vaguely agree with this. The stacks of clothes did seem to be separated somehow by color, but he had no clue by which coordination they were supposed to be organized in. That was at least something.

Estel went to stoke the flames a bit higher. "It's so cold here."

Legolas retrieved some blankets from his closet. "You get used to it."

Estel shook his head. "No, it's not that. There's something here that chills the spirit and creeps into the back of your mind. It makes me feel like there's something in the dark corners where no one seems to look. It's unnerving."

Legolas stopped for a second as surprise washed over him, then put down the blankets on the bed with a sigh. "You get used to that too," quick to change the subject, Legolas nodded to the concoction over the flames, "What's that?"

Estel's head snapped up from where he was shuffling a large leaf of papers. He looked nervous at first and started to fidget around, making more of a job of putting the stack into one of the desk drawers. He opened his mouth several times just to close it again. For a moment Legolas was sure the boy was going to lie, but he finally sagged his shoulders subjectively and began to explain.

"I-It's only fair that I should warn you. I mean, we're going to spend quite a bit of time together. Since I was small, I have had a rare and odd…well it's not a disease really, but kind of inhibiting condition I constantly have to live with. While I was still young my father and brothers noticed that I became out of breath very quickly. Even compared to human standards I lagged behind and tired after even small amounts of exercise. It wasn't only because I was abnormally winded, but in worse cases it felt as though my chest would constrict and I was left gasping and wheezing for breath."

"My father tried for many years to find an already existing cure or develop one of his own. A lot of my early childhood memories are of taking hundreds maybe thousands of physicals, along with testing sometimes very painful treatments. Ada always used to say I was his best patient. I also traveled to various towns where we met human experts to get their opinions and diagnosis. In some places it has been called asthma."

"My friends and family never seemed to lose hope, nor allow my physical well being to deteriorate because of my breathing problem. It was a long and hard process of growing up an endurance enough to allow me to play and later fight up to a good standard. Only recently has father made a break through in treating me and that's what you currently see over the fire. The fumes in the steam help relax my diaphragm and the liquid also soothes my body, but I still have problems and my father says that there probably is no permanent cure. It doesn't matter though, I've learned to deal with it and you will most likely never have to worry."

Legolas felt confused. One part of him pitied the human and was filled with admiration, but that feeling was overshadowed by the exasperation at having to deal with yet another problem that the human now placed upon him.

Legolas blurted out a stumbling, "O-Oh, I'm sorry. Uh, has this condition ever gotten to a dangerous level?"

"Only once, last summer, although if it were to repeat itself no one but my father would be able to save me," Estel whispered grimly, "Thank you for the blankets and your time Prince Legolas. I bid you goodnight."

Legolas sat on his bed, perturbed by all the events that had taken place. The human was getting more and more complex. It was strange because he was intrigued by the boy, but at the same time he didn't much care. His first meeting with him was of heated anger and snide remarks, but here he was a few hours later feeling like he had reached more of an understanding of the other, though just as Legolas thought these things, he had to admit that they were slightly false. He still didn't think he quite reached a comprehension in the boy as he would have liked.

There was something special about the boy. Estel…hope indeed, snorted Legolas as he rolled over and tried to sleep once again. As before he did not find any.

Long after Legolas had left, Estel sat staring at the closed (and still locked) door. He honestly didn't know what to think of the prince. He had seen a sliver of compassion, but he was agitated that none of it could have been voiced. Instead the pompous prince had asked him a question that was merely full of caution over yet another variable towards the peace agreement. If he were to die, it was undoubtedly established that Mirkwood would be blamed and would lead to conflict. Estel dearly wished to know the prince better. His character thus far was not as inviting as Estel had wished for, but what he most hoped for was a friend. Something he needed very dearly.

Estel worked well into the night and most of his things had been placed in his desired placed and organized the way he liked. He still had a stack of the books however that were haphazardly set near the balcony, since the bookshelf above the dresser had been filled to the brim with the elvish texts. Some of them were for his lessons, but a majority of them were Estel's favorite stories, adventures full of heroism both of fiction and tales that have been snatched from history.

One of the last things he had to do was arrange his herbs. In the beige bag with the red tag, as his father had promised, Estel discovered Lord Elrond's vast herb supply neatly packed in organized bags and vials that were marked with the various names and translations, along with a brief explanation of their uses. Estel was in awe of it all. One was that it was a wonder how his father had done all of this in such a brief period of time and second, it was as if Lord Elrond, who's herb storage room was covered with hundreds of shelves, tables, and cabinets, seemed to all be compressed into this bag. Not only that, but everything was in perfect proportions. The common herbs and plants that could be commonly found or things found here easily in Mirkwood were only in smaller quantities, unless it was a one needed frequently. Estel was also surprised to see very, very rare remedial ingredients also tucked away carefully in special boxes. To his amusement his father had also included some cooking herbs stashed away as well. Estel started to separate some select herbs and placing them in two separate pouches. Estel, always thinking about others, was going to split his herbs with the cook and the healers here. He selected them carefully, being mindful of which ones would be most appreciated. Before going to bed Estel placed one of his history books into his personal pack he carried sometimes when he didn't have time to return back to his rooms to retrieve things. He would be meeting a majority of his tutors tomorrow and he was anxious, but excited all the same.

**---O---**

Legolas unlocked the door and proceeded to try and rouse the boy from his bed.

"Get up human!"

The only response he got was Estel turning over in his sleep. Legolas, rolling his eyes, walked up to the bed and began to shake him. The boy batted at his hand sleepily. Legolas, a thought springing to his mind, gently pulled away some of the covers.

"Estel?" Legolas asked tentatively. He had not addressed the boy by his name at all until now, perhaps that would rouse him.

Estel put his head up and blinked blearily at him. Legolas felt elation at his accomplishment; perhaps if he was kinder in future then the human would more readily obey him…

His hopes were squashed when the boy let his head fall back onto the pillows and immerse himself once again in the pillows.

"Too early 'Dan," he murmured, his words slurred in his semi-lucid state.

Legolas decided it was indeed too early to submerse himself into the headache he could feel already coming on and decided to leave the room calling out behind him as he walked out the door, "As I am not your brother it will hardly be my fault if you starve!"

About half an hour later Estel was walking nonchalantly down the corridors. Trying to remember where the dining hall was. At long last Estel found himself finally inside a larger corridor, the ones that shone brightly from the morning sun, which eventually led to the great oak doors where he awaited a warm breakfast. His brothers had said that Mirkwood had excellent bread. He went to push the doors open, but they would not budge. He tried harder and even tried to fruitlessly see if he could get the large doors to somehow swing outward. Any attempt he made was in vain and so he sat down in one of the hallway chairs, hungrily waiting for someone to open the doors.

"Why is everything in Mirkwood always locked!" he asked the air in anguish.

He later learned that unlike Rivendell where you could stroll down to the dining hall in a general time frame, if you were not at the table when the food was set out here in Mirkwood then you would have to go without a meal. Estel would have to sit outside the doors and miss a few more breakfasts before he would be able to train himself to get up.

He waited in misery, hunger gnawing at his insides. Finally, at long last the doors opened and the elves came out departing on their separate ways. Estel tried to push his way through the crowd and was nearly through the doors when he was stopped when Legolas suddenly blocked his view of the inviting table.

"And where are you going?" Legolas asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I swear you elves are so paranoid, locking everything in sight, I'm just going to get a quick…"

"Breakfast is over," Legolas stated flatly, but felt a little guilty as he saw Estel's face fall, knowing that he could have tried a little harder in waking the boy, "Here."

He handed half an apple to him, who eagerly began to chomp into the sweet fruit.

Around the food in his mouth Estel began to speak, "So what am I supposed to be doing for hmm, let's see… the rest of my life?" The sarcasm wasn't masked.

Legolas prayed to Eru that he could keep his patience. "It has been arranged that you can help with the palace healers after breakfast until the morning sword or various combat lessons that you shall attend with me. After that is lunch, then a tactical theory class, but you only attend that three days a week. Depending on what I'm doing you'll either be put back in your room or, as requested by your father, you'll be allowed to go on hunts with me. Today however, Captain Iridor suggested that I should give you a tour of Mirkwood after your lessons."

Estel gave him a genuine smile. "That sounds good."

With that, Legolas dropped him off at the healing ward. A lot of the elves there were courteous, giving him the respect of being a chosen son of the most revered healer in all of Middle Earth. Estel was grateful for this advantage and quickly began to try and win some respect of his own. He conversed mainly with the Master Healer and his chief apprentices. They were very keen on knowing any new discoveries. They talked long and Estel found that he was actually enjoying himself and felt more relaxed than he had thus far. Even in the small amount of time they talked, Estel learned a great deal. Here in Mirkwood where there were constant battles between the orcs and almost daily wounds coated with their foul poisons they had come up with much more efficient and simpler means of treatment than the old methods used back home.

In turn he told the healers much of human illness, which intrigued them deeply. They had even requested that they examine Estel if he were to ever become sick and teach them how to treat it. Estel agreed. He was past caring about examinations; his hard childhood had demanded that he build a tolerance for them, along with nasty tasting teas. When Legolas came to fetch him, Estel had just given the Master Healer, Emheril, the package of herbs. They were just leaving the healing ward, when they turned at hearing a sudden shout.

"Lord Estel! You cannot give us these! Some of these herbs are priceless and only can be found in the most difficult of areas or can only be collected at certain times of the year!" Mereth exclaimed.

"It's alright, my father would surely want you to have these too. My father has always taught me that sacrifice must be made for the greater good. If I must trade these precious herbs to save immortal lives then I shall do it, even if those soldiers I save hold me here. It doesn't matter, besides I may have need of them as well at some point." Estel smiled and pushed the bag of herbs back into Mereth's hand. "Oh, and just Estel in future, ok?"

"Anything in exchange for such a gift. Even some of these more common ones are growing hard to get now that relations are stretched or are simply becoming scarcer. Thank you again Estel!"

Estel's satisfaction and cheeriness lasted the entire walk to the practice grounds. Upon seeing who else would be in attendance Estel's good mood was flattened considerably fast. Among those getting warmed up by stretching or doing simple sword techniques was _both_ Etre and Apres, along with many of those who had first accompanied his arrival to Mirkwood.

Estel soon learned that locked doors were not the only thing that differentiated Mirkwood from his home. Mirkwood of course had a much higher physical education. The several combat classes they had were mandatory, unlike the few academic ones that Mirkwood offered. It was also required that he sparred with everyone, including the elves that didn't really care if they accidentally broke his arm or something. The way they scored points during sparring matches also contrasted starkly with that of Rivendell. For points were counted through hits. These "hits" were exactly as they sounded. Unlike the friendly competitive taps you gave back home, Mirkwood practiced actual contact fighting. How hard or swift you struck determined the effectiveness of the blow.

Though, likeRivendell, much of the mock fights were not done with real weapons. Most of the time they used heavy pieces of wood shaped like those of knives or swords. Estel shuddered and, although too proud to admit it, he was afraid.

Captain Iridor greeted him, in one hand he held the replica of the twin blades commonly used by wood elves and in the other he had a curved wooden sword.

"What is your preference?"

Estel looked from either weapon and answered timidly. "I'm better skilled with a sword and I can wield the duel knives capably enough."

"Which do you habitually use?" Iridor asked.

"The sword, but I have never been taught to defend against the knives with it. When I practiced sword it was only against another one," Estel said, biting his lip in frustration.

Captain Iridor saw his discomfort and laughed. "Well, that won't do any good. Here, I'll go through basic techniques with you before I turn you over to one of the others to properly spar," he then addressed the rest of the group, raising his voice to be heard above the whooshing and swishing, "The rest of you get into your dueling pairs and I want both sword and knife practice!"

At the command the group started to pair up and immediately went into fighting stances. Meanwhile, Iridor handed Estel twin blades as well as getting some for himself.

Estel looked at the knives and then back at the elf in confusion. "But I thought I was going to learn with a sword."

"Patience, you will, but right now I must see your technique with these before we can move on."

And so they started. It wasn't too slow or a very fast pace. They simply weaved through the various strikes and blocks, only meaning to display what they knew instead of their skill.

Satisfied Iridor gave the boy a encouraging smile. "Good, your technique is nearly perfect, but surely you can go faster."

Without giving any sign of affirmation Estel quickened to his normal sparring pace. Iridor was pleased to see that it was a lot faster than the speed they had started out with. The boy was fast. He clearly showed that he could indeed hold his own against an elven opponent. Iridor suddenly doubled the speed, his blows raining down swiftly, his movements blurring in the onslaught. Estel was taken by surprise and had to retreat and give himself space to maneuver. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up with this kind of speed for very long, but he gave it his best effort. He dodged much less frequently now because it took too much time and his blocks became more precise, never moving more than an inch of where it needed to be, which reserved his energy and didn't waste any of the precious seconds needed to meet the strikes.

Estel constantly went in and out of the blows. He could not afford to be placed in a position where he'd have to compete in strength, but of course it was inevitable. Iridor slammed down both his knives downward and pressed his full weight into the blow. Estel was not in the right stance to bear the force and fell to one knee as he blocked it with his own two knives. Estel's arms trembled under the stress. Then Iridor, still retaining the same amount of force, rapidly removed one of the knives and struck him at his unprotected side. At the hit, Estel gasped, his grip slackening and Iridor disarmed him easily. Estel stayed kneeling on the ground, panting and holding his side. He was suddenly aware of eyes on him and looked up to see that most of the elves had stopped what they were doing to watch the duel. Estel's cheeks reddened. They probably only saw his defeat. A hand was suddenly put in front of his vision, offering him up.

"That was well done. I am surprised. When did you start training?" Iridor pulled the boy up to his feet.

"I started at a really early age, but it didn't get really serious until I was nine," Estel answered, hissing as his he was hauled up.

"Who was your instructor?" Iridor asked curiously.

"I usually spar with my brothers, but Glorfindel was the one who initially taught me and still supervises me to this day…well, when I was still home," Estel said.

"You mean, Glorfindel the Balrog slayer who hailed from Gondolin long ago?" exclaimed one of the elves.

Estel nodded proudly.

"His advantages are limited. Both his speed and his strength are nothing. Even now he's still laboring for breath. If he cannot battle one elf, then surely a band of orcs would cut him down!" Etre mocked.

Iridor glared at the elf. "That is why he is here to learn. Now, Estel pick up a sword. Since you have a thorough understanding of the principles of using these knives I am confident that you will be able to defend against it and counter using a different weapon. Let's get started."

They had gotten through a few moves and stances before Iridor stopped Estel. "That's enough for today, Estel."

"No, please, just a little longer!" Estel pleaded, standing resolutely in the same offensive stance. He was breathing heavily and his brow shined with sweat.

"We've already gone a little longer than intended, go sit out," Iridor commanded.

Estel started to drag himself into the shade of a large tree when a sudden idea struck him.

"Captain Iridor, can I freshen up and make sure I can get to the dining rooms in time?"

The captain shook his head. "You'll have to check with Prince Legolas."

He moved to where Legolas was practicing.

"Can I leave for the dining room?" Estel asked again.

Legolas spoke, never breaking his stride and not concentrating on the human as much as he should have been. "Go ahead, leave."

Estel jogged back to his room. He changed quickly and grabbed the package of herbs he intended to give to the cook. He raced down the corridors and slid giddily down the long stair railing. He'd been waiting to do that for quite a while. He felt really accomplished today.

He entered the far right door in the dining hall in found himself in the midst of action and cacophony. Everyone seemed to be caught up with the many steaming pots, seemingly random explosions of fire, and hot ovens. He moved tentatively forward to an oddly short elf, who was also a little bigger around the middle than the typical lithe forms of perfection that the Eldar prided themselves in. Estel was pretty sure he was the head chef because he seemed to be the one in the most stress and yelling the majority of the time.

"Excuse me." Estel tapped the cook's shoulder.

The cook whirled to face him, still stirring the contents of a huge pot. "What boy!"

"Here." Estel hurriedly handed him the parcel and turned back into a quick retreat.

He had just exited the door, escaping the almost intolerable heat when Enfin suddenly towered over the boy. He gave a small start and brought up his eyes to meet those of the elf, whose expression darkened at his nervousness.

"What are you doing alone boy? Why is Prince Legolas not keeping watch on you?" Enfin asked in a low tone of voice.

"Well, I finished sword practice early and I wanted to freshen up…"

Enfin interrupted him, sweeping his hand to halt further excuse. "And so you ended up down here?"

"That was because I sent for him," said a deep, booming voice coming from behind them.

The two looked to see the head cook standing in the doorway, the parcel halfway open in his hands. He went up to face Enfin with a challenging sparkle in his eyes.

"Away with you master Enfin, lunch is not yet to be served."

Enfin nodded reluctantly. "Very well then. I shall tell the king of your antics boy."

He strode off in the opposite direction and neither of the two talked until he was well away.

"These are greatly appreciated, young Estel. Yes, I heard of you from my cousin, who is a healer. I have just used some of the herbs in today's meal. It's a rare treat to get a hold of some of these, since they're only common in the north. These also make it so I won't have to get more for a while yet!" the cook said excitedly.

"You're welcome. I'm so glad to be of service. Thanks for getting rid of Enfin…" Estel let it trail slightly at the end, since he did not know the fellow's name.

Sensing his difficulty the elf slapped him on the back. "I'm Mereth and to show my gratitude I'll have a surprise for you after lunch, if you would just pick it up in the kitchens! Oh, and I advise you keep it secret too."

"I'm honored," Estel said just as a small trickle of people began to take their places at the table.

"Whoops! Better get some bread laid out." Mereth blustered back into the kitchens.

Lunch was a quiet affair, just like dinner and had he attended breakfast Estel would know that that meal was more silent than the very middle of the forest itself. There were only a few murmured conversations here and there at the table. Estel tried convincing himself that it was a comfortable silence. He grimaced when Enfin's sharp voice cut through the air.

"Prince Legolas, why did you abandon your duty and allow the human to wander unattended," Enfin questioned harshly.

King Thranduil looked at his son with question in his eyes. "Is that true Legolas?"

Estel could see Legolas' hands ball into fists beside him. "Yes my king."

Thranduil's eyes blazed. "I told you to watch him, I told you of this duty just last night! How can you forget so easily? "

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment," Legolas forced through gritted teeth.

Estel was going to come to the Prince's defense when Enfin cut him off. His opinion was again cast away as unimportant.

"See to it that it does not happen again," Thrandruil said.

"Yes sir."

Estel looked from father to son. There was a heavy tension between them. He could not quite understand where it came from, but it was much like the anger Elladan was prone to when things looked grim and he needed to vent his frustration on something. Perhaps that was what Mirkwood's royalty was doing. Estel felt that his assumption was wrong or a little misplaced at the least. As dinner was being taken away a purple sack somehow made its way into his lap. He could feel the warmth of whatever it was through the fabric of the bag and the alluring aroma that came from it. He stuffed it into his bag with anticipation and rushed to where Legolas awaited him at the doors, to escort him to his lessons.

He caught up to the prince and noticed how his eyes were a storm of emotion. Knowing that he was the main blame for this, he tried to make amends. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble. I just keep forgetting that this is not my home," he tried lamely.

"It's fine. It's hardly your fault. This fight is an old one, although it has not died over the years. You need not concern yourself," Legolas assured.

"Why will you not accompany me to these lessons?" Estel queried.

"I have gone through the royal education and do not need further learning," Legolas answered.

Estel nodded. "Are you still going to show me more of Mirkwood after my lessons," he asked hesitantly.

Legolas looked at the expectant hopefulness in the youth's eyes. "Yes, I shall meet you just around that bend over there at the end of the hall."

Estel gave another nod before saying a short farewell and then entered the lessons rooms. Estel sat in the very back of the room, trying not to be noticed. This tactical theory class also doubled as history since most of the examples was taken from previous battles and strategies. He was fairly nervous. He did not know if the schooling he had received at Rivendell would not be sufficient enough to at least have a good grasp on whatever material they were going over here.

The tutor, Captain Iridor's brother, started off with a description of a fairly common battle routine used when needing a defense of a town or city and then starting describing a few more scenes and facts that would lead to the specific time that the strategy was used in. Estel was elated when he was able to easily piece together the information and relate it to a historical time frame.

As custom at home Estel answered openly, standing while giving his answer, signaling that he was also willing to participate in a discussion over the subject.

One of the elves looked at his with an incredulous look on his face. "Sit down you dolt, you only answer if the instructor selects you to give it."

Estel sat down sheepishly, his face burning hotly and his head down. To his horror the instructor started to come towards him with a small length of wood in his hand. Estel was afraid that he would be given a few swats across his knuckles like he had heard that some teachers did in human towns. Instead the elf that had reprimanded him received a small whap on the shoulder.

"If you recall I only started forcing you idiots to answer since none of you seemed to never wish to speak or even give the effort to try thinking at all," the schoolmaster said wearily. He turned to Estel with utmost relief in his face. "I'm Master Oridell. I'm pleased to finally have an ample pupil at last."

Estel's flushed with pleasure. "Uh, thank you sir."

Through the rest of the class he received glares and scowls while Master Oridell was not looking. Estel groaned inwardly. He seemed to gain enemies easier than breathing. In fact, he seemed to get more dirty looks just for breathing. Even so, he glowed with pride. Estel felt like he was finally giving the representation of his house full justice.

After the lesson was over he walked out with everyone, although he was shoved and jostled a lot harder than it naturally would have been. Estel rolled his eyes. There must be an unlit torch in every elf where the moment they meet him specifically it burst into flame to immediately hate him. Estel saw the prince waiting at the end of the hall and he sped to him. Legolas inwardly chuckled at the unchecked eagerness that shone in his face.

Legolas took him around the palace grounds, showing him their cropping area and their vast gardens, the many courtyards, surrounded by the nearly blooming flowers that would awaken their beauty shortly when spring arrived. A pond full of oddly shaped, ghost white fish glistened in the sun and Estel could feel the darkness lessening. Last, Legolas brought him to the cliffs above even the Mirkwood palace. There you could see everything, all the elves passing by or the fires of the wood elves' silly merry making in the forest. The youth plunked himself down on the edge of the rock, letting his feet dangle into the air, little rocks cascading down, the gentle pitter pattering adding to the lull. Legolas chose to remain standing on his left side, just a little behind so the youth would have to turn around in order to see his face.

Estel took this moment to open the sack that Mereth had given him to reveal scone-like objects except a dark brown color. They smelt wonderful, but he put one up to his face in curiosity.

"What are these?"

Legolas, whose gaze was on the horizon, thinking faraway thoughts, suddenly gasped at what he saw in the boy's hands. "Those are Mereth's cocoa scones! The last time I had one was at my mother's funeral. He hardly ever makes them. You are so lucky!"

Estel suddenly looked weary, but started to eat the chocolaty treat. "What was it like to have a mother Legolas?"

Legolas' envious thoughts of delectable sweets were interrupted by the grave question. He looked into the boy's eyes and saw a deep longing and he smiled despite himself.

"Mothers are mystical creatures. They're the ones you don't mind having them kiss you in front of all your warriors and even if you did give a half hearted protest she would do it anyways. She's the one who always knows what gifts to get you and always knows what's wrong. She's the one who tells you that you're still her baby and who all the bullies scurry from when she's angry. She's also the very best one to get girl advice from. Getting it from males is hopeless," Legolas said, his eyes misting with tears.

"Sounds so nice…" Estel, lost in his day dreams about embraces long forgotten, offered the bag of scones to Legolas.

Legolas wrinkled his nose. "You need not boast. I'm being tortured by the smell already."

Estel raised one of his eyebrows, a trick he learned from recieving that same gesture from his father a thousand times before. "I meant for you to take some."

Legolas looked shocked.

Estel pushed it closer. "Just think of it as payment for getting you in trouble."

Legolas sat down next to Estel and happily took two from the proffered bag. "I'd gladly get in trouble again if it meant getting these."

"I would have shared them anyways."

The two sat and ate the rest of the scones in a comfortable silence until they both were lost in their own thoughts.

"What happened to her?"

Legolas sighed, dusting a few crumbs from his lap and continued looking into the now dipping sun. "I don't know, no one really does. She-she got sick. She said that her heart was apart of the wood and now that it fell into darkness so did she. Then she just faded, getting weaker and weaker every day," Legolas voice was starting to waver now, "If elves can die from the sword or from sickness, then you can hardly call us immortal! Sometimes I wish that I couldn't remember at all."

"How could you say that! Just a few seconds ago you were talking about your fondest memories of your mother. Those memories must mean everything to you; surely those happy memories are powerful enough to cast away the mourning of her death!" Estel insisted.

"Can you remember your parents?" Legolas asked, interestedly.

Estel fidgeted with the now empty sack. "No, I can't remember anything of my family before my brothers and father took me in. I cannot recall the feel of my mother's hand against my face, nor the sound of my father's voice, but," Estel's hands started to shake, "I can remember their deaths, never their faces, just waking up in the dark covered in their blood. I used to have nightmares about it when I was young and even now I wake up in the night and my heart aches for a love I can't remember."

Legolas put a hand on Estel's shoulders. "I understand what you mean now. What-what did you do to make the nightmares stop?" Legolas' question was soft spoken.

"I realized I couldn't keep crying and that if I didn't ever want to feel the sting of loss again I had to be strong," Estel's eyes burned with the same resolve he had all those years ago, "I learned to fight and I still am, so that I can protect myself from dying and grieving those who care and so I can protect them in turn."

Legolas again found himself in shock. Those were the exact feelings he had felt and that he was going through even now. Legolas suddenly saw what made this boy special. At first one would only see a shadow of an elf, only to look closer and feel more like looking into a mirror, but then you realize that the reflection was different, showing only the best parts of yourself, shining within the uniqueness of this human raised by elves.

"Hope you are Estel, I am beginning to see that you do indeed deserve the name given to you." Legolas smiled softly at his young companion.

Estel beamed back at him. A friend at last! "Can you teach me better archery technique," he said abruptly.

Legolas, still on the previous thought, was stopped midway into saying something and stared at the boy uncomprehendingly. "And…wait…what? Oh, of course! I'm the best there is you know."

And that was how the odd friendship of Estel and Legolas was formed, soon to be sealed through their adventures, injuries, and loyalty…just not quite yet.

**---O---**

_Dear Ada,_

_I imagine that the twins are reading this over your shoulder, so I'm saying hello to them too. I miss you all so much. Mirkwood is so different from home, which makes me think of Rivendell almost all the time. I think about you three more than is probably healthy. I see you constantly in my dreams. I've made a tentative friendship with Prince Legolas, which relieves me greatly since it would have been unbearable to be with him otherwise. My unending charm won him over though!_

At this point Legolas could see a small picture depicting a smug looking character of Estel. He continued to read.

_You can wipe that smile off your face El. I definitely know I didn't get my suaveness from you two. Although I am grateful that the twins taught me some lock picking. After dinner I'm usually locked in my room until morning. I'm also put in there when Legolas can't look after me. I hate it when Legolas is on patrols or has duties. A lot of the time I'm forced to be with Enfin and tag along with him. He scares me Ada. He looks at me funny and asks me questions about you and Imaldris. I usually opt to be locked into my rooms, but Enfin insists that he watches me personally. I'm afraid of him…_

_Lessons with Master Oridell are going fine, as well as my combat ones with Captain Iridor. Both of them are great mentors. I've been getting some hard knocks from the sparring. It's not too bad though, so don't worry. I have the darf summary you wanted me to do, but I forgot how that third 'R' letter goes in the dwarvish script so I kind of just made an indistinct scribble when I used it. Legolas' archery lessons are going good too. I'm getting better, so watch out._

_They don't have hot baths here! I was tired from a hard day and had a bath drawn. I hopped in without a thought and nearly drowned with surprise. I forced myself to stay and get used to it, but sweet Eru I was shivering. Legolas says that the only heated baths that can be taken is either in the king's rooms or the huge public baths. Taking cold baths isn't fun, but I can't go to the public ones. I'd rather catch my death of cold than go there. I know it's foolish, but I just can't bring myself to do it_

_I hope your letter comes soon. I'll be waiting eagerly for its arrival._

_Wishing I were with you,_

_ Estel_

Legolas chuckled at the letter, but was disturbed by the part about Enfin. Sure, the elf was mostly bitter hearted and cold, but never evil. Then again, Legolas thought, he had never seen Estel and Enfin together and he couldn't honestly say that Enfin didn't have the ability. With sudden clarity Legolas remembered the bruise that had marred his friend's cheek just a few days previous; it was only now beginning to fade. Legolas frowned at the thought. Estel had said that it had been from the training he was receiving, but Legolas was starting to doubt that.

He sent the messenger bird, a common carrier pigeon, on its way. He left a small report on Enfin's empty desk and went back to his room to confront Estel. Over the past weeks, Legolas had grown more used to the human's presence and was starting to enjoy it. Legolas was planning to bring him to one of the hunts soon. His aim was improving. He would hit the target every time. The center just seemed to be oddly illusive for the boy.

He stepped into his room and went to the Estel's bedroom door and twisted the handle, forgetting that he locked it. To his consternation the door opened. _Lock picking indeed, _he thought grumpily.

"Estel, why is the door unlocked?" Legolas questioned as he stepped into the room.

Not looking up from his work on the desk, Estel answered, "You forgot to lock it."

Legolas rolled his eyes but did not inquire any further, knowing that Estel was too keen to not notice that he wasn't letting on all that he knew. He leaned over to see what Estel was poring over. Estel was finishing up the last touches of a fairly magnificent drawing. It had a border of flowing elvish script, which read into a famous poem of a time long ago. In the drawing was a unicorn with an armor clad warrior upon its back, atop a hill. In the distance you could see the rising sun, but was obscured by a dragon, who was on its haunches, its eyes fixed on the rider. The figure's sword was raised and pointing at the creature and Legolas could imagine that his armor glistened in the advancing rays.

"This is very good Estel," Legolas murmured in awe.

Estel was wiping the charcoal from his hands. "Thanks, I'm pleased you like it."

"But why must you draw such fantastical beasts that only come from tales?" Legolas said, pointing at the unicorn.

Estel frowned. "Elves are thought to be myths too. You exist though, so unicorns and centaurs and all those other creatures must originate from some truth."

"Elves are not thought as myths," Legolas said disdainfully.

"You've only vaguely been out there in the world Legolas. There's so many human that think elves are more akin to dragons than anything else," Estel pressed.

Legolas snorted. "Well, if humans would come…"

"And get the same treatment I did and still do?" Estel rubbed his bruised cheek without thought.

"Truthfully Estel, where did you get that?" Legolas asked with concern.

"Nowhere!" Estel insisted. "I want to finish up my drawing. Can I have some privacy?"

Legolas sighed and dropped the issue. The human was too stubborn to argue further with. He left and locked the door behind him, leaving a darkly contemplative Estel in his wake.

Estel continued to rub the discoloration on his skin. It had been one of the times that Legolas was called to his princely duties, attending a meeting with the men of Dale. Estel had landed in Enfin's care. The elf was unusually angry that day and snapped at him constantly. Estel had only been with Enfin a handful of days, but they had been trying ones. Enfin treated him no more than a servant. The one time where he had brought him to a meeting Estel had been made to stand behind the advisor's chair and be silent during the entire procession. Enfin also insisted that Estel was to always walk behind him, never to his side and never in front of him. On that day of Enfin's ill temper Estel had the not so wise idea to finally oppose him. He refused to walk behind him and without warning Enfin had backhanded him hard across the cheek. Estel toppled to the floor with the force of it. He stared back at the cold eyes numbly. Never had his father or any of those in Rivendell ever raised their hand against him in anger. It was a foreign concept to be struck.

_Enfin had spat at his feet. "You will do as you're told human. Now get up or I'll hit you hard enough so that your father will feel it."_

Estel's face burned with shame as he thought of the way he had scrambled to his feet immediately and followed the elf, head bent like a beaten dog. He was too surprised to do anything at the time, but now he was prepared and would not submit so easily toward his tormenter. He wasn't lying when he told his father he was afraid of him though.

A few weeks later Legolas took Estel on his first hunt in Mirkwood. Estel wouldn't have told any of the elves that it was actually his first hunt he was to really participate in even if it meant to trade his arm. They rode on horseback mostly through the woods. Estel noticed that as they went deeper into the forest the trees looked less beautiful and the sun started to become blocked by the myriad of branches above. Sometimes a luminous shadow would pass over the trees and Estel shuddered. He had heard of the great spiders that resided here.

All of the sudden something fell from the trees right on top of Estel. Using reflexes honed from competing with elven brothers, Estel was able to bring his sword and knife up to meet the spider's hairy body, impaling itself on both points. Estel was slightly pinned underneath but went into a mad scramble to get out, in his haste leaving both weapons still in the body.

Legolas had rode to see the commotion and was met with the sight of Estel getting out from underneath the slain spider. Legolas' congratulation died on his lips when he saw the young human's reaction.

Estel crawled out from under the thing and ran a good several feet away from the body. "BY THE VALAR! I know 'Dan and 'Ro said there were big spiders but I thought big meant the size of my hand, not my body! Oh gods," Estel almost frantic with panic, stripped off his shirt that was stained with some kind of secretion and threw it at the corpse.

Legolas watched in fascination as the boy dumped nearly all the contents of his bag in his search for a new shirt and was hastily putting it on. Most of the elves were laughing at the odd display. Legolas got his horse near him and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the back to calm him down.

"Estel, you killed it without a moment's hesitation, but you're suddenly put into a frenzied panic when it's already dead and simply near you," Legolas said bemusedly.

Estel looked at the body nervously, murmuring despondently. "…hate spiders…too many legs."

Legolas laughed tenderly and nodded back to the fallen spider. "Go and get your weapons and we shall leave this place."

Estel nodded and the elves were forced to watch nearly half an hour of the boy touching the weapons, instantly making the arachnid twitch and then run back to safety. Apres had to finally yank out the weapons and roughly shove them into the disgusted boy's hands before they could all leave.

Nothing eventful happened for a while. They took lunch under the trees and continued on foot, leaving their horses at a roughly constructed base camp. Most of the elves had taken to walking through the trees. Estel followed as best as he could, already lagging behind the group while still at a slow pace. A heard of deer suddenly passed through under the trees and the fleet footed elves gave chase above, easily running the lengths of the branches and then jumping onto another on the neighboring tree.

Had this been a better day Estel might have been able to stumble after them, but instead after only a few feet of swift pursuit his breath started to become uneven and his chest started to squeeze. Estel dropped haphazardly down onto the forest floor, trying to catch his breath. He sat leaning against the tree. He knew that if he tried going after the others he'd probably make it worse, so he resigned himself to wait a few more seconds before getting back to camp.

He was just about to get up when he heard a feint rustling. A doe cantered out of the trees right next to him. It wasn't any doe, but one of the special white deer with their fur almost the purity of snow. It did not bolt as Estel would have expected, but strode nobly toward his direction. When Estel stood up cautiously the doe stopped and pinned Estel with his piercing gaze. Estel returned its gaze. For long moments they stood still as stone, sizing each other up.

Estel finally made a few tentative steps forward and when the doe did not make any sign that it was uncomfortable Estel advanced far enough to pat the beast on its majestic neck. Estel suddenly laughed.

"It seems like all women are alike! So hard to get, but it looks like you've been left behind too," Estel continued to talk softly to the doe, stroking its snowy fur.

That's how Legolas found them. When his excitement had died down enough to notice the young human's absence he had immediately panicked, not knowing if the boy had been snatched by spiders, fallen from a tree, or suffered from his condition. He looked upon the rare scene in astonishment. He smiled as he watched. More and more Legolas was witness to Estel's unique personality and he increasingly began to doubt his father's detainment of the boy. He actually looked forward to reading Estel's letters as much as he did. In them he remembered the love and completeness of family that he had once felt not so long ago. Legolas cleared his throat causing the doe to give one last fleeting look at Estel before bounding away.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry I didn't notice you sooner," Legolas apologized.

"It's okay," Estel replied as he started to follow Legolas back to base camp.

They made a fire and got ready to prepare the kill that they would feast on for that night's dinner. They were just about done when the elves came back with loud cheering and merriment. There were copious amounts of cooked meat all around that night and they still had large amounts of kill left for their stores. It was a glorious occasion for all…naturally except Estel, who was the constant subject of their taunts and jibes about ducking out during the kill. Tired of the endless laughter at his expense, Estel climbed high up into one of the trees to wait until the celebration was over and the elves would go to sleep.

Estel liked it in the towering giants. He had climbed high enough so that he could see over the highest branches of all of the surrounding trees. It was a beautiful sight. Now that he had pierced the suffocating web of branches he could properly see the skies and the twinkling stars above. Even in the night blue semi-translucent butterflies skimmed the tree tops, fluttering under the moonlight.

Estel had his face upturned to the vast sky above and he was comforted. He could see all the star constellations that his brothers had shown him when he was small. This was the same sky his father could be looking out at right now. He was just that much closer to home. Estel found himself lost in airy little dreams.

Down below the elves commotion had died down and everyone was starting to settle in. Then, like shreds of forgotten memory floating through the clouds a soft and clear voice began to sing…

_Sunny days and starry nights,  
Lazy afternoons,  
You count the castles in the clouds,  
And hum little tunes._

But somehow right before your eyes,  
The sun fades away,  
Everything is different,  
And everything has changed.

If you feel lost and on your own,  
And far from home,  
You're never alone, you know.

Just think of your friends,  
The ones who care,   
They all will be waiting there,  
With love to share,  
And your heart will lead you home.

Funny how a memory can take you back in time,  
To places and embraces,  
That you thought you left behind.

They're trying to remind you,  
That you're not the only one,  
That no one is an island,  
When all has said and done,

There'll come a day when you're losing your way,  
And you won't know where you belong,  
They say that home is where your heart is,  
So follow your heart and know you can't go wrong.

The elves looked up in wonder. The voice of course didn't hold the beauty of their own, but none of them were actually hearing Estel's voice at all. All of them found themselves lost in memories and for the first time in a millennia they could hear the voices of their beloved family members, even the ones that had passed away or sailed over the sea.

Captain Iridor had tears in his eyes. "I have not heard that song since my wife sang it to my own son."

Legolas smiled at the distant figure in the trees. "Nor I since my mother sang it to me when I was an elfling."

Captain Iridor looked around at all the faces still transfixed at the heart lifting song. "That boy is truly amazing. Only he could sing a song that has such a dark and gloomy premise, but during the entire verse it instills hope."

Legolas nodded, knowingly. "I begin to see why mortality was proclaimed a gift to the younger races. Elves may be gifted with good memory, which can span our entire lifetimes and we recall this very song with clarity, but we've forgotten how these little things were so important to us at one time or another. We've lived so long already and have the prospect of so many more centuries ahead of us that we've forgotten to cherish life."

Iridor wiped away his tears and his eyes appeared much graver. "This song takes an even deeper meaning for Estel," he paused, steeling himself for the question, "Prince Legolas, will he ever be able to return home again?"

"I do not know," came the sad reply.

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-**

**Whew, that was a LONG chapter for me. I was going to make it longer too, but I've realized that by holding back the bit I had started to write, the next chapter will be better proportioned. Ok, a few things before I go. About Mereth's special cocoa scones: I watched on the food channel that cocoa scones were supposed to be the first kind of brownie. Second, the song is by Kenny Loggins called "Your Heart Will Lead You Home." The line "Funny how a memory can take you back in time" is actually "Funny how a photograph…" I chose memory to replace it because it has the three syllables so the meter isn't thrown off, but the pentameter got crapped up because of it. Photograph is long, long, short while memory is like short, short, long. GIRR! That bothered me. Ohz well, I'll try to get that next chapter in soon. I can't spoil what'll be in the next chapter, but the one after that will be the huge TURNING POINT of the story. Getting excited? Eager maybe? Well review and it'll appear a whole lot faster! **


	4. Turning Point

**Author's Note: **

**Gah, stupid stupid gir. Okay, this one took so long cause the original outline for this chapter involved Elrond and the family coming to Mirkwood on Estel's birthday, but it proved too difficult to waylay all the emotions into sequence with actions that made sense. was also being a chewd and wouldn't let me upload this for like three days. Guess what inspired me to get this chapter finished. I was at this restaurant that had one of those bubble gum coin machines with these positive virtues and attitudes bracelets in it. I put in my fifty cents and out came "HOPE". I took it as a sign.**

**I've been binging on V-8 and watching old Disney movies all day. Lol, those were the days when all the animals talked and it was cute as hell and you never realized just how sad it was until you watch again twelve years later. I was balling when Mufasa died! Oh god and Bambi's mom! sobs hysterically **

**WARNING: Ok, when I rated this I forgot about this one part I was going to have later on. Look, it's nothing too bad. It's just a small sexual reference that doesn't go very far at all. If you wanna flame then whatever. It has a slightly mature theme to it, but the only people who should be uber surprised are like 12 or innocent 13 year olds. Otherwise I hope you can be mature about it. **

**Sorry, no reviewer responses this time because is being a chewd and is having problems with this file.**

**oOoOoOo**

_**Reteaching the Wise**_

_**Turning Point…**_

Legolas surveyed the still closed door and sighed. Estel hadn't emerged for a few days now. The boy had arrived in the beginning of spring. It was now winter. For Legolas the months had passed by quickly and they had been the happiest he could ever remember. It was hard to think of life before Estel had entered it with his boisterous attitude. Legolas smiled softly at the ground. Estel certainly created memorable moments.

"_Um, Legolas…" Thranduil stood, but made sure to keep the desk between the two of them. Old habits born of long years of detachment died very hard indeed._

"_Yes, my king?" Legolas shifted, apprehension filling his body with unnoticeable tremors._

"_I know that-that we haven't been very close as of late and that I haven't celebrated your conception day since your mother passed away…"_

_Legolas gave a start, almost like a spasmodic jerk. His father had remembered!_

"…_so I hope that perhaps this could make up for all those missing moments that we should have shared together."_

_King Thranduil produced the most beautiful thing Legolas swore that he had ever had the privilege to see from behind the desk. Being held out to Legolas by his father's hands was the unmistakable craftsmanship of a Lorien bow._

"_Oh ada…"_

_The Mirkwood King started just as his son had done. He could hardly remember his son calling him that. Almost desperate to keep his son's pleasure and happiness that had been so scarce in the past years Thranduil stumbled over an explanation._

"_It's not a custom make. I'm sorry…ion-nin, but in such troubled times I could only get you a standard Lorien bow. The Lady and Lord of the Wood don't exactly give these out as party favors."_

_Legolas, acting as if the desk had never been thought as a barrier ever before, bolted to hug his father. The return of the gesture came rather slow, as it had been one out of much needed practice. _

"_I love you ada."_

"_You too ion-nin."_

_Suddenly the awkwardness seemed to pass and the familiarity came flooding back through their embrace. It had been a long time, too long, but not so long as they thought. Legolas broke the hug and dashed to the door._

"_I'm going to go practice!" Legolas explained, dashing for the door excitedly._

_Right at the end of the hallway he bumped into Estel. Estel gave him a smile, looking from his bow and then to his joyous face. Legolas smirked knowingly._

"_Thank you Estel."_

_A grin. "For the bow or for your father?"_

"_For everything."_

Legolas sighed heavily as he gave another wayward glance at the door, as if it would magically open in a shower of gold sparks if he checked often enough. He knew that it probably wouldn't happen. The past weeks Estel had been withdrawing more and more and to Legolas' dismay he also started to eat less as well. Legolas knew what was happening. He could see it in the boy and he could see it in his letters. Estel was getting weary. He was tired. Legolas was even starting to believe that he could be fading.

Legolas glared at the door before standing up. Leaving each other alone and not confronting each other's feelings was what had separated he and his father, he wasn't going to make this same mistake with Estel. His resolve strong, Legolas marched to the door and yanked it open. He was met with the sight of an empty room and the balcony doors wide open, leaves blowing lazily into the room. Legolas surveyed this for only a second before bolting out of the room in search of the human.

It had taken hours. Through the gardens, in the kitchens, to the practice fields, and everywhere in between Legolas had searched, but he had found nothing. Actually, he had found several things reported missing by some of the inhabitants, but that was beside the point. Then, he heard a faint pitter patter of cascading droplets that he had not noticed at first since the sound seemed to fade into the background. Legolas stood still and listened. Like rain…just like rain…

_They had been on another hunt, eager after enduring so many days of spring rain. Even then it was drizzling on and off. Estel wanted to explore a little west while everyone else wanted to go east. Legolas had agreed to go with Estel. They had walked and talked for a long while, but eventually they discovered a small canyon-ish thing running through the forest. It was just a little too wide to jump across and it was about as deep as their heights. It had probably been carved from the years of rainfall and had been deepened from the recent erosion. In fact, there was a small stream of water running down the very bottom from the rains. They stood together at one of the sides._

"_Well, we have two options. We can follow this down to see if it narrows down or we can hop down and climb up the opposite side," Legolas said, sizing up the situation logically._

"_It might take too long to find an easy crossing point and this isn't that big of an obstruction anyways. Let's just go. It will be more of an adventure!" Estel was already starting to ease down the side._

_Legolas frowned as he followed after his human friend. This side of the stream was fairly solid. Even Estel's steps marked the damp earth with only slight impressions. They both made small leaps across the stream to the opposite bank and…sunk. Both of their feet they had landed on sank into the mud. Both panicked and grabbed on to each other, struggling wildly. Estel had to put his other leg back in order to keep himself balanced, his boot landing in the stream and sinking even further into the mud. Legolas was able to pull himself free, with a prominent slurping kind of noise and started to climb his way up the opposite side. It was steeper than expected and he grabbed on to a plant to help haul himself up. He had nearly gained the edge when Estel, finally extracting himself from the thick goo, grabbed onto his cloak. The plant, its roots submerged in the wet earth, came free and sent the two friends falling back to the muddy bottom. Estel, who had been closer to the bottom, fell unceremoniously onto his backside. _

_Legolas was not as lucky and found himself sprawled halfway in the stream with muddy water soaking through his clothes. They had made a desperate struggle up the side again, half clawing, half clambering madly up. They lay panting on the opposite side of the gorge, their hands and knees covered in dirt. They remained in that position for several long minutes. Legolas turned to face his companion, giving him his best glare. Estel returned it with an apologetic smile, his eyes twinkling._

"_Now wasn't that more fun than going around?"_

Legolas' eyes snapped open. He knew where to go.

He was standing there at the edge of the cliffs, like their first day together and their first day of their friendship, but unlike that day Estel's shoulders were hunched and he was not lost in thought, instead his mind seemed to be thrown asunder in his storming emotions. In his hands he bore a white rose and red rose, accompanied by a fiery orange wildflower.

Legolas watched in silence as Estel's hands opened numbly and the flowers seemed to drift slowly downwards in dancing spirals before disappearing into the dark foliage.

"This was the day they passed away," he whispered quietly.

Legolas felt a cold chill travel down his spine as his mind spun about to come out sickeningly empty. He had tried to suppress the memories for so long and had tried to bury the pain so deep that he had forgotten the day his mother had left behind this earth.

Legolas put a comforting hand on the youth's shoulders. "I do not wish to offend but I do clearly remember you being the one telling me that we should celebrate life, not death."

Estel was still looking where the flowers had disappeared.

"Yes, but as life was too short, today I shall remember their deaths."

It was well at night before Legolas had convinced Estel to return to his rooms. Estel went to change into his sleep attire when he stopped to examine his bare torso in the mirror. Estel sighed at the rather sorry sight. Yes, his body had become rather muscular and toned but, his chest, stomach, shoulders, and back was marred with bruises. They weren't only from combat training. Estel also began to think of memories from the past few months, but unlike Legolas they weren't quite as pleasant.

_He sagged lamely between the two elves' grip, blood pumping in his head._

"_So what's your answer today Estel?" one of the elves spat._

_He kept quiet, focusing on breathing. He received another hard punch to his already terribly bruised ribs. He grunted. It never ceased to amaze him that his poor chest and abdomen had not shattered yet. He was already fairly sore from combat training, but combined with these nearly constant beatings his body was starting to become tired from the damage. It was getting harder and harder to get back up again._

_One of the younger elves came pelting back from his post at the end of the corridor._

"_Price Legolas is here!"_

_The elf put his face nose to nose with Estel. "Well, it looks like tomorrow will give us an opportunity for yet another of our favorite arguments."_

_They left the other way as he slumped back to the ground. The elves from his class had been pressuring him to keep silent during the lessons. He would not of course comply and so the elves thought that he had needed physical backing to their urging. They were smart though. They made sure that evidence of the abuse could not be seen; staying away from his face and arms. Estel half sat, half laid on the ground, hunched over with his hair screening his face from view. He knew that Legolas was waiting, but today he could not drag himself up again. He had lost._

Estel blanched at his image that mocked him of his weakness and quickly donned some warm sleep wear. After that last beating Estel had finally given in.He was not only getting in trouble by not being on time to the right meeting spot for Legolas after his lessons but he was continually having to nurse bruises and hurts that only he seemed to care about. It was now a necessity to put herbs or oils into his bath water in order to sooth the constant soreness. The day Estel stopped answering willingly and stayed silent throughout the entire class, Master Oridel gave him a sad and knowing look. Disappointment was clear on his face. Estel forever felt wretched in his class, one of his few senses of pride now gone.

Estel finally agreed to come out of his room and eat and continue his usual routines the next day. Legolas, however was allowing him some space and agreed to let him wander the gardens alone. He had spent a while gazing at the strange milky pale fish in the pond when he heard distant cheering from the archery fields. He clambered into a nearby tree and made his way stealthily towards the small crowd gathered of his most favorite people: Apres and Etre. There was a she elf among them. Estel immediately recognized her as one of the assistants in the healing ward.

"I beat you Apres! You owe me a date with your sister!"

"I want a rematch you cheater!"

Estel, becoming increasingly angry as he saw the same indignation that he felt so often reflected on the poor women's face, jumped down from the tree and confronting the elves.

"Are you actually defending your sister or merely your wounded pride?" Estel hissed venomously.

"Oh look, the princling's pet has been let off the leash!"

"Answer!"

Etre smiled and shrugged indifferently. "I don't seem to see a difference."

Estel marched up to the elf and gave him a hard shove. "She's a person you know. She isn't something to be used as a trophy or reward. She has feelings and opinions as well!"

"She can't do half the things we men do."

Estel kept on going, holding his ground. "If women are expected to do the same as men, then we must all be allowed to be taught the same things. Compared to most males, if females were to want to be their equals, then their ambition would be pitifully low indeed."

Etre opened his mouth, but was silenced. "Etre, if you were ever in a relationship I hope you are loyal and most of all grateful!"

Earuile gave Estel a wide smile and as she left she gave him a thankful kiss on his lips, giving the elves behind him a last glare as she did it. When her lips left his her eyes twinkled and his lips tingled. She even gave him a nice hug before finally departing. Estel stood dumbfounded. His head came crashing back onto his shoulders when the elves around him started to jeer.

"Well, it looks like the little whore is now preaching his sensitivity to all now," Apres said snidely.

"Wh-what did you call me?" Estel confidence had died as the others seemed to close around him.

"You know what you are. You didn't think that we'd all just think that the prince would keep you around if you didn't have some kind of use," Etre jabbed evilly.

Estel's hands balled into fists, but his face was blushing scarlet. "That's not true!"

"Well if it isn't the prince, then it must be Enfin!"

This set Estel off and he lunged at the elves. They were quicker though, even if Estel did put up a good fight. He was outnumbered and they quickly overpowered him, forcing him face down into the grass as they loosely tied his hands behind his back. Even though they were aiming to be cruel, it was only in jest, Estel's struggles also hindering their work. Hands crept up his shirt and Estel came to a sickening realization at what they were trying to do. Estel, having escaped under his brothers after numerous wrestling matches, was able to wriggle a bit free from their crushing weight and kicked out into two of the elves' stomachs. Their grip slackened and he pushed himself off of the ground as best he could, but Apres was able to shove him into a tree, his back pressed against the rough bark. Apres had his forearm on his neck and pressed down harder until Estel movements were stilled in order to keep from being suffocated.

Apres smiled cruelly. "Looks like I owe Etre a little fun."

At this Etre came forward and pretended to let his eyes rove up and down Estel's body. "Yes, I think the little human needs a lesson."

"He's never in the baths. He must be hiding something," one of the elves called.

To Estel's horror Etre slowly and agonizingly began to unbutton his shirt. He shut his eyes tightly and his struggles were renewed tenfold, ignoring the fact that his breathing was becoming harder and harder to maintain. He felt the feather light touch brush past his exposed skin and he trembled softly. Etre had gone as far as to unfasten three of his buttons when he took advantage of his victim's lack in knowledge of what he was doing and gave a tug at Estel's pants front. Estel's eyes snapped open, fear and adrenaline rushed through his veins. In reality, the elves would rather die than do such a heinous act on any living soul, but they just wanted to scare the human. They succeeded. Estel wrenched from their grasp and fled back to the palace, the elves' laughter and calls ringing in his ears.

Half blinded with tears he sped through the hallways and looked over his shoulder to check if he was being pursued. Not being able to see where he was going, he bowled right into Legolas, who was rounding the corner at the end of the corridor. With his hands still bound behind him, Estel could not do anything to stop the collision. He landed on top of the surprised prince and had to suffer the humiliation of staying in that position for a while as he had to get enough leverage to right himself once more.

"Estel are you okay? Estel what…why are you…" Legolas was befuddled by the poor boy's disheveled appearance.

Estel was at first relieved, but some of the fleeting remarks came back to sting in his ears.

_Go ahead human! Run back and go crying to your prince's bed!_

He instantly pushed off of Legolas hurriedly and continued to run back to his room in fury. Still pumped with adrenaline, he was able to forcibly rip his right hand free of their binds. He yanked one of the drawers violently open and grabbed a paper and pen. Fueled by his rage he started writing to his father. Legolas had run after him.

"Estel, what is wrong my friend?"

When the boy gave no answer he sighed and slowly moved forward, reaching out to where his shirt had been opened. "Here, let me help you."

Estel forcefully shoved his hand away. "Don't touch me," he said through gritted teeth, tears threatening to overcome him.

Legolas was hurt, but didn't miss his wayward emotions. Legolas suddenly saw the angrily scrawled note and snatched it away from Estel, his eyes scanning quickly across Estel's distinctive script.

_Ada,_

_I can't suffer the shame and humiliation of being here any longer. I know I've said that I'd never give in, but I've been pushed farther then I can go. I don't care if all these elves die. Please, I need to escape. Rescue me if you can, but I'm making a break for it. I'll see you soon…_

Legolas read it quickly and crumpled it in his hand, waving the enclosed fist in front of Estel's face.

"Do you know what you're doing Estel! You've promised to your father that you'd endure everything and anything for your family and your home's safety. You said that you would never be the reason for open war against the elves. I know you're tired of all this Estel. I know that everyday it has been getting harder and harder to face a new day of seemingly endless sufferance, but think of what you're saying!"

Estel's face was shocked, but then contorted to pure anger. "How long have you been reading my letters!"

Estel, blinded by his anger, punched his friend and continued to go after him. Legolas grappled with him, his back hitting against the book shelves, a few cascading down from their precarious positions. Legolas caught one of the Estel's hands as he attempted another blow and was able to get it behind of his back. Legolas didn't want to hurt Estel and forced the boy onto the bed with his face pressed into the thick sheets. Estel's panic and fear was starting to skyrocket into dangerous proportions and he was now trying to jerk out from under Legolas, ripping his shirt even further in the process.

Legolas, not knowing what the real dilemma was, started to press his body against Estel's to add extra weight and pressure. "Estel, calm down. Stay still!"

The boy stilled beneath him and Legolas let out a sigh of relief, but did not let go of Estel just in case he tried running. After several long minutes Legolas started to let his grip loosen.

"There now, I'm sorry I had to restrain you Estel, but I…" Legolas, to him at least, suddenly began to hear soft crying from the youth now lying on the bed. "Oh valar, Estel, Estel…"

Legolas heart clenched. He hadn't meant to hold him so hard. Estel's tears had been so silent, silent and without even the slightest movement. A talent perhaps gained through hard earned experience. He reached out to the boy, who flinched away at first but relaxed as Legolas began to rub soothing circles into the boy's back. They stayed like that for quite a while. Finally, Estel had either cried himself out or merely stopped of his own choice when he finally sat up, sniffling slightly, cheeks wet. He drew his torn shirt about his shoulders self-consciously. Legolas got up from the bed and selected a new one for him, making sure that it was one of the boy's home-spun ones that bore the dark colors of Imaldris. He also had the courtesy to get one _without_ buttons. Estel nodded his thanks, but looked reluctantly at the shirt and then the prince.

Legolas frowned. After their morning practices they would normally return back to their rooms to change their clothes real quick. Legolas inferred that the sudden shyness must have stemmed somehow from this recent affair and he tried to confront the subject as delicately as he could.

"Estel," he waited for the boy's eyes to meet his own, "What did they do to you? What did they say?"

'They' was a generic statement. Legolas knew that there was those who still didn't accept the human and he did have a few ideas who 'they' may have in their midst, but wouldn't do anything unless Estel consented as well.

Estel did not answer as he changed and pulled the new shirt over his head. It was soft and familiar. Still he did not answer right away, choosing to fiddle with the rope still tied haphazardly on his left wrist. Legolas nudged aside his hand and began to untie the knots, still patiently waiting.

"They were just being stupid, just wanted to scare me. They were accusing me that I…that you had been using me for…" Estel broke off, praying that Legolas would understand enough and not ask him to finish the statement.

Legolas did understand and his stomach churned at the thought. "Estel if you want I could talk to them."

Estel shook his head. "They'd have won."

Legolas moved closer to the boy and was gladdened when he did not tense. He put a comforting arm about his shoulders.

"I apologize for the letters. I had at first been reading them on orders, but as I got to know you I wanted to stop. At first my excuse was that when things were still rough between my father and me, the letters seemed to remind me of all the missing love. I have no excuse to offer now other than I anticipate some of the odd stories you exchange with your brothers. I personally did not know that you could get Elrond and his chief advisors drunk at fall festivals and convince them that doing Sauron impressions for a bored eight year old was actually possible."

Estel laughed. "I will not hide the fact that I have been mentally scarred from that point and probably will be 'till the day I die."

Legolas joined him in his merriment. "Don't worry Estel, things will get better."

"I hope so."

**-O-O-O-O-O-**

Why must the valar cast him in such ill light? It was only one stupid, ugly vase! He hadn't meant to break it! He was seven and he was being chased by his brothers. Estel heart was screaming.

He had been only on his fourth patrol. There had been orcs before, but this time they were ambushed and there was three times in their number than the previous times. Prince Legolas was of course first priority, but as he had been deemed well able to defend himself for more than a few decades Estel been put under strict protection. It had started to snow a week or so ago. There was red and black blood marring its perfection, mocking its beauty. Cries of pain, mixed with the sounds of battle sliced through the silence, echoing through the trees.

There had been archers in the trees. They had been inactive for a majority of the fight, but when the tables seemed to be turning, black arrows rained down from the trees. Captain Iridor…

"Get that boy out of the room!"

Estel was struggling against four or five elves to get to the bed that currently held his Mirkwood protector. One of those restraining him was Legolas.

"Estel, there's nothing you can do!"

"Ada taught me--"

Emheril shouted above Estel. "Estel, you are skilled, but there is no one among us now who could save him thusly."

Estel shook his head violently. "No! Captain Iridor was the only one who was nice to me! It was simply courtesy, not obligation or pity. He was always patient with me even if I was slow."

Emheril put his hands on either one of his shoulders and shook him. "Estel, you once told me that your father taught you about sacrifice. You said that you understood."

"One life for another, an equivalent exchange, but that's a lie! As long as people die there is loss, there is no way to gain. The importance of one life of the other isn't fair at all. I'm going to die someday, he's immortal," he pierced the healer with a face full of hard determination, "My father may have taught me about sacrifice, but it doesn't mean I have to like it!"

Estel broke away from those holding him and ran to the bed. He gained to about two feet away from the bed when he was caught again. He struggled harder and harder until he was mere fingertips away. Then, with a last ditch effort he lunged forward and his hand brushed the cold, but still barely alive body.

Without warning there was a flash of blinding white light and all the elves were forced to shut their eyes or look away. Then, as suddenly as it came it started to dim until they could actually see Estel. It was a bizarre, but glorious sight. Upon his brow there was almost a crown of fiery light. From his heart a similar light also shown, but it was different. If his mind made piercing flames, then his heart created the purest and strongest light, like sunshine in the darkness. His hand, which was atop Iridor's own heart, the lights seemed to combine. When the beauty of it all wore off, they could see that there was something wrong.

The light would grow dim, but every time it threatened to diminish fully it would erratically brighten. Barely over a series of minutes the battle raged to huge levels. The light was starting to weaker and weaker each time it sprang again and would lose to the darkness more and more quickly. The light was dying.

Estel voice was soft and halting from his exertion. "Need more…"

Without a second thought Legolas stepped forward and put a hand on the Estel's shoulder.

The reaction was immediate. Legolas' natural glow seemed to fuse and energize from Estel. The light at Iridor's chest also strengthened. Estel blazed. Soon, the three lights engulfed its inhabitants, and onlookers lost them in the radiance. Legolas was not affected at all, in fact he felt comforted and safe.

Like a breath of a warm summer breeze, he heard a whisper and a sigh.

_It is done._

The lights faded away just as Oridell pelted into the room. It was so silent that he thought the worst and somehow made it immediately to his brother's bed. His grief suddenly turned to wonderment at what he saw. His brother looked fine, his chest rising and falling at regular intervals and his expression seemed to be at peace. He shifted to get a closer look when something cracked underneath his weight. He looked down to discover four crude orc arrows scattered on the ground. He spun around to look into the bewildered faces as if asking for some answers before seeing to his brother again. He lifted the sheet and his brother's tattered shirt to see four 'rashes' near his collar bone, on his chest, and two in his stomach. They couldn't even rightly be called rashes. They looked weak enough to be made from a mild scratching in that area of skin.

He looked to the Master Healer. "What happened? I was informed my brother was dying."

"He was," Emheril answered lamely, his eyes darting to where Estel and Legolas were.

Oridell also looked to the two. Legolas was kneeling beside his unconscious friend who was sprawled in an odd position on the ground, mouth slightly open. Legolas met his eyes and he smiled and Oridell knew.

Estel stayed unconscious for several days after, but Legolas was not too worried for it was a peaceful sleep rather than a dead one. They boy rolled over in his sleep and shifted when touched, so there was no concern of him slipping into a coma. It just seemed like he was in a healing slumber full of happy dreams that he was reluctant to pull out of. It wasn't until after a week that Legolas started to get edgy.

"Is it possible that he can lose himself in his dreams?" Legolas asked fretfully.

"Legolas, he's merely recovering. He gave a lot of his strength," Emheril answered.

Legolas sighed. Emheril had probably given him the same patiently given response over seven times that day.

"But why has he been asleep so long? Although not all too common, calling back elves from death is not unheard of, but I'm surprised a human could be bestowed this gift."

Emheril shook his head, but smiled. "I've never seen a calling done in such a miraculous way before. But did you notice how fast the initial light died so fast? Making the connection itself critically drained him. His lack in experience had also shone through since it was obvious he couldn't maintain a steady flow. All the same, it was a miracle. I've never seen the wounds fully healed before."

"That's because I'm so talented," came the slow and soft sleep slurred voice of Estel.

Legolas went to coddle the poor human, while Emheril went to fetch something from the counter. He came back with an unfortunately large mug of a steaming liquid. Legolas scrunched his noise at the smell. Emheril handed Estel the cup, and gave him a look of sympathy.

"This will help your body with the missing nutrients from you lack of eating, I'm afraid it's bitter though."

"Couldn't you have put some sweetener in it!" Legolas protested.

While a huge argument interrupted between the prince and the Master Healer, Estel only gave the tea a half hearted glare before draining the cup indifferently. He wiped his mouth before handing the mug back to the open mouthed healer. Legolas' eye twitched and as if gripped by a sudden madness, started to look all around Estel's immediate area. He lifted the sheets and knocked the pillows onto the ground as if searching for something.

Giving up he leaned close to his friend's ear and whispered, "Where did you pour it? I won't tell. It's a great deception. I'm sure the twins taught it to you."

Estel chuckled and pushed his friend from him. "I drank it, Legolas."

The healer was still staring at the cup before he ripped his eyes from it to survey the bemused Estel.

"I have never seen anyone take any sort of medicine without a single complaint. You truly can work miracles Estel!"

Estel burst out into more laughter. "No miracles sir, just tolerance."

"I've seen elves stay silent when arrows have been removed from their limbs, but never anyone who did what you just accomplished. Not even well trained ones like prince Legolas!"

"Hey!"

The day was good. Estel was able to leave the healing ward soon after and the friends were able to spend the day together. They sat and had lunch and to Estel's embarrassment the High King of Mirkwood proposed a toast in his honor for his heroic deeds. He saw the two brothers, Oridell and Iridor, raise their glasses to him heartily. Estel didn't eat that much, albeit Legolas' urgings. Legolas would have thought the boy to be ravenous. It was evident now that he was starting to lose weight now.

A few days later he sat on Legolas' bed, while Legolas stood in front of the mirror fixing his perfect little braids.

"Legolas?"

"Hmm…"

"Do you think I could go and talk to your father this morning?"

Legolas looked at him, startled. "Why?"

Estel shrugged, trying to look as if it didn't really matter, but inside his heart was hammering.

"I…don't think it's a good idea Estel."

"I'm not asking that. Is he free?"

"Yes."

Legolas sighed as he watched the boy leave. He was just going to be disappointed yet again. Legolas hoped that he wouldn't have to rescue the boy from the dungeon for letting his temper run away with him.

Meanwhile Estel was standing in front of the carved doors of the king. Second thoughts and doubts began to plague his mind, but he pushed forward nonetheless. His bow was low, but he did not kneel as would most. He was a prince of his proclaimed home and, even if he did not know it, a forgotten king.

"King Thraduil?"

The king looked up from his work. "Yes?"

Estel had written a pre prepared speech for this, but it seemed to melt away and replaced with his feelings pouring directly from his tender heart.

"It's-it's been nearly a year now. Ten months and I have turned sixteen here in your halls. You have shown me kindness and hospitality and I have lived a comfortable life here, but it's nearly Winter Solstice and I just wanted--"

"No."

The answer was so abrupt that Estel could only stare blankly at the king.

"But I--"

The king sighed, perhaps truly sorry for the boy.

"I know what it is you wish to ask of me. You want to see your family. You want to be home for the holidays or have them come here. This I cannot allow."

"But why?" Estel whispered brokenly.

"Such is your burden."

Estel's anger flared. "I have bore my burden well even though it has been tested to its utmost limits more than a hundred times over! Have I not yet proven to you that I am trustworthy? Have I not submitted myself to all your rules and been compliant to all your rulings?"

The king opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by Estel. It was rude and it was a high offense, but Estel didn't care that much about future consequences.

"It surely was not you who convinced the Great Galadriel of Lothlorien to give the son of the one keeping me prisoner one of their infamous bows! Who was able to stay her indignation? Who was it that granted you this bow to present to your son as if a gift from his father? Who was it who wrote down and told you what lines you should say to your son? It was I who salvaged what was left of your relationship with your beloved son!"

Thraduil was standing, his aura clashing with that of Estel's. Their anger matching and boiling into an ever darkening storm.

"You cross dangerous grounds human! You know nothing of what you speak."

"But I do! You forget that I am a son too! Ada will always make time for me. Do you ever spend time with your son? Do you still have tickle fights before you tuck him into bed? Do you still sneak into his room in the middle of the night to watch him sleep? Do you ever tell him those stupid little reminders to eat his greens or wash behind his ears? When he's sad or angry do you ever persist him about it until he tells you and pat him on the head and tell him that everything is going to be okay or allow him to cry on your shoulder? My father knows everything about me. What do you know of your son? Do you know his favorite color? Do you know which she-elves he's interested in? His favorite clothes preference or-or his favorite food. You wouldn't even have given his conception day a second thought if I had not already set it for you!"

Thranduil slapped the boy across the cheek for good measure. "Do not be as foolish as to compare me to your own father. Your father is weak. I could do any of these things for him!"

"But you don't! You can't suck up your pride and allow your grief over your wife as an excuse not to know your son. When was the last time you asked for help? You say my father is weak? You've taken me because you know that if for whatever reason the elves went to war, you'd lose. You know that Lothlorien would always side with my father. You were afraid, so you struck at my father through me. You're a coward!"

With a roar of rage Thranduil grabbed the youth's shirt front and slammed him against the wall. Stars burst into his vision, but it didn't block the view of Thranduil's face, of his eyes. Tears were falling down the king's face. Estel tried to break away from the iron grasp. He felt himself being dragged to a door to the left, which Thranduil opened to reveal a dark and enclosed closet. Thranduil literally threw him inside, Estel's head connecting with a peg meant to hang varying clothes upon. The last thing he saw was the door closing and the lights going out. Silvery tears splashing on the floor…click.

Enfin watched as Thraduil stormed off in the opposite direction, exiting on the other side of the hall. Enfin smiled and strolled into his king's study, spotting what made the smile widen. On Thranduil's desk was a solitary, shining silver key. Enfin grabbed it and looked up at the huge portrait of the late Queen of Mirkwood. It was life-like in every way. When you looked hard enough you could see her hair fluttering in the wind and leaves fall past her porcelain face. Below her portarait lay a small shrine. It held the necklace given to her by Thraduil from their engagement, her wedding ring, and an urn that held her ashes. Giving a bow he went over and slipped the key under the lid. He could here the muffled sounds of stirring coming from behind the closet door. The human wasn't going anywhere.

"_Mama?" _

"_Yes darling?"_

"_When is papa coming back?"_

"_Soon."_

_A childish giggle. "You always say that."_

_A woman with light brown hair scooped up her dark haired son. "That's because it's true."_

_It was getting dark._

_**When the cold of winter comes  
Starless night will cover day  
In the veiling of the sun  
We will walk in bitter rain**_

Estel had awakened to dreams, his face pressed against the wall, his eyes closed. It wasn't so dark that way. He could see him. He was tall and lean. His face was sharp, but kingly. His hair was dark and wavy just like his own. His eyes lit up when he saw his beautiful wife, his young son. His wife was young and beautiful, but strong. She had piercing hazel eyes and a fiery spirit that melted away in heartfelt laughs. His eyes were hers.

Estel felt tears run down his cheeks. Why was he always crying? He thought he put all that behind him. Then again, he thought that he'd never see them again.

"Nana…Ada…"

_**But in dreams  
I can hear your name  
And in dreams  
We will meet again  
**_

_The village was burning. The village hidden in the leaves, lost in the mist, protected by shadowed heroes of forgotten royalty…was found. _

"_To the house, stay hidden. He needs to live," even then, in the midst of chaos and battle, his voice held every ounce of love that he had for his family. "I love you."_

_A kiss and a smile._

"_A good bye is not needed between those who will meet again so soon," was the women's reply, said in the voice familiarized with stories and songs._

_They ran but not fast enough not to see him fall. An arrow and a sword. His little boy ran back as the ever loyal wife slew his killer as a last favor. The boy's hands and clothes are stained with his father's blood. A bloodied hand strokes his cheek, leaving its crimson mark there as well._

_Slender hands grab the boy and rush to a building already half engulfed in flame. In the corner of a bedroom the floor opens. The boy is pushed in and shushed, his mother kissing him upon the brow. The door is locked. The mother waits in the house that she and her husband made together. It is burning, but still they come. A little boy peeks through the crack in the door. A cry of defiance turns to pain…_

Legolas didn't hesitate at the door and barged into his father's room. There was pounding coming from the closet door and he understood. He ran to the door, trying to wrench the handle to open. He can hear Estel's desperate pleading in between his sobs. He screams deliriously. Legolas yells for him to hold on. Legolas went to his father's desk and nearly broke all the drawers in order to find the key. He can hear the struggles growing louder.

_The little boy feels warm liquid slide across his face and into his hair. It is not tears this time. His mother's blood had pooled upon the ground and was seeping through the secret door. Little crimson droplets rained down on her little boy. He will not scream like he wants to. She told him to be quiet. He scoots back trying to escape the sickly fluids. The secret door leads to a kind of basement. There is stairs behind him. He slips on the bloodied floor and is falling through the darkness._

For Estel the memory ends, but the nightmare continues. He can see that door, he can hear Legolas' voice. Estel was hyperventilating. He needed to be quiet. Blood is seeping through the crack between door and floor and he holds back his horror as he scrambles away. He needed to stay silent. His breathing grew heavier and the walls closed in. His lungs contracted painfully and his wind pipe was starting to close and choke him.

Legolas' panic was spiking now. He could hear nothing of Estel other than his rapid breathing. He spun about the room. He needed a clue! His mother's face erupted in his vision. He remembered her serene smile. She beckoned him. He needed no apology.

Legolas snatched the urn and with barely a moment's hesitation he plunged his hand into his mother's sole remains. The fine powder was soft, like the touch of her skin. He felt the jagged metal amidst the ashes. Smiling his thanks he returned to the door to unlocked it.

_The secret door opens and light floods down the hiding place. There is no house around it anymore. A little boy's eyes open to the blinding glow. With the light came two identical faces… _

_**When the seas and mountains fall  
And we come, to end of days  
In the dark I hear a call  
Calling me there,  
I will go there  
And back again**_

Legolas had ripped the door open and the lights streaming into the little closet illuminated the pale face of Estel, huddled in the corner, eyes wide and breathing jagged. Legolas didn't know what to do. Estel's pulse was irratic and his eyes were glazing over from the lack of oxygen reaching his brain.

"You need to calm down Estel. You need to breathe slowly."

Legolas put his palm against the boy's face to get his attention, but he was too far gone. Legolas looked around as if looking for someone or some kind of sign that would tell him what to do. Legolas didn't allow himself to succumb to his panic and tried to think of something. If Estel wouldn't be able to breathe on his own Legolas would have to help him. He bent forward and breathed into the human's mouth, repeating this several times. It didn't work. What little air that Estel was dragging into his lungs wasn't going to last for long. Legolas searched his memories frantically. Once, when he was younger, a majority of his friends had dog-piled on him. He remembered that he was able to gasp for breath but each time his chest compressed further and further. All the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. Is that what Estel was feeling?

Legolas placed both his palms on Estel's chest and pushed. He pushed harder and harder, adding more and more pressure until Estel's feeble struggles almost died, then he released. Reflexively Estel's chest rose and air was forcibly sucked into his starved lungs. Legolas jumped in triumph and continued to do this process, having to make the boy's stubborn body relearn how to breathe again. Soon Estel's breathing returned back to normal, albeit a little hitched. Legolas sunk to his knees beside the couch in relief. Estel soon fell back to sleep from his exertions.

Legolas' hands were shaking. What if he had lost Estel? Estel was one of the few people to make him smile the way he liked to. To smile without reason and to be happy and not need to explain himself. Legolas gently lifted the boy in his arms and went to carry him to his room. At the door he passed by his father. He stopped and let his father look upon his face to see the emotions reflected there. Legolas saw that he had remorse, but Legolas knew that it wasn't for the human.

Legolas laid Estel into his bed and pulled the covers over him. He knew that there was no way things were going to get any better now.

**-O-O-O-O-O-**

Estel was up on his feet after a few days. He no longer went to breakfast, opting to stay in his bed and just lie there or read. Today, however, he decided to resume his "life". He walked unenthusiastically to Oridell's classroom. He was late, but he did not make an effort to go faster. Upon entering the room he noticed that all became silent and all eyes were now on him. It did not look like a normal lessons setting. Most of the elves were sitting casually or leaning on their desks in groups with their friends. Estel looked to Master Oridell and was met with sadness.

"Master Oridell, what is going on?"

Master Oridell walked closer to him, so as to keep what little privacy they could, keeping his voice low.

"I'm truly sorry Estel, but I must ask you to leave my class."

The last of the gleam that used to fill Estel's eyes seemed to die right there. The silver dissipated and only the stormy grayness lingered. Someone else had turned their back on him. Another loss to his heart, but he felt oddly indifferent towards it.

"I am to know why?"

Oridell looked around at the expectant faces around him.

"My students refuse to study further with you. They argue that you are a distraction to them. Under any other circumstance I would not have yielded to repay my debt to you, but my highest priority is to teach."

"Where am I supposed to go then?"

"Go and work in the kitchens where you belong," one of the elves whispered harshly.

Oridell turned on him furiously. "Silence, you need not degrade him further when he has not done anything remotely close to warrant it."

Oridell escorted Estel to the door, stopping at its frame. He looked upon the boy's face and was saddened. Why was this boy simply made to suffer grievance after grievance? What reason did Estel have to keep forcing himself up again just to be knocked back down? Oridell did not know.

"Estel, you clearly did not need my teachings. You did not need to endure so much that you have through being in my lessons."

Estel shook his head. "No, I really needed them more than you probably think."

Estel walked away.

His mind seemed to get foggier and before he knew where he was he was standing outside the kitchen door in the dining hall. He was compelled to keep going and since it was after lunch, the normal chaos had died down. Mereth was drinking some wine in the corner. Estel made his way to him and opened his mouth but no sound came out. It was if he suddenly came to himself. That feeling was dissipating though and he started to slip back into his foggy, thought scattered mind.

He cleared his throat and began again. "Sir, I was wondering if you had some kind of job for me here in the kitchens around this hour of the day."

Mereth looked at him oddly. "Estel, you are no servant."

"Well that is all I seem to be deemed fit for, so I shall comply. Do you have an opening?"

"Only as a dish washer, but--"

Estel did not wait for him to finish and began to make his way to the sink and start his duty. While he washed and cleaned robotically, his mind drifted in and out of his haze of thoughts. Why was he down here washing dishes like those elves had told him to? Why did he even wake up this morning? Why did he even think that perhaps today would be better? What was he doing all this for?

Estel racked his brain. Legolas' concerned face bent over his bed popped into his mind eye. Yes, he was doing this for Legolas. Estel was now sure that their friendship was strong. They had been through so much together. Estel knew that Legolas had become seriously worried about him after the incident with Thranduil. Estel had withdrawn and still was, but he was making an effort to make things as they were before. He did this only for Legolas. No, that was not true.

Estel knew why his eyes had dulled and his thoughts blunted. He could no longer bear to wear his heart so openly now. He buried it deep inside himself. It made him indifferent and apatheic, but most of all it helped him forget his hopes and dreams. Hope is merely a denial of reality. If you don't get your hopes up, then you won't be hurt so much after the fall. He could not get rid of it so easily though, such is the curse of his spirit. Deep inside Estel still believed that there was still a chance that he'd return home. That chance, however slim it was, was a large part of why he convinced himself to attempt to live again.

Estel came to himself again to discover an elf by his side, taking the dishes he had washed and drying them to then placing the dishes on a rack. Estel was astonished at how young the elf was. He was probably the youngest he had ever seen, his maturity probably matching his own. In Rivendell, apart from himself, Arwen was the last child to reside there.

"Mae govannen, I'm sorry I did not notice you sooner. What is your name?"

The elf looked at him in surprise, like he wasn't expecting to be given a warm greeting.

"It's Dinaer."

Estel gave him a quizzical look. "'Silent one'?"

A nod.

"Well, perhaps elves have finally come to the pinnacle of naming. Or maybe they're just out of practice. Look at me; I've been stuck with 'hope'."

It was the elf's turn to look questionably at Estel.

"Yeah, that was a joke."

The elf's puzzled look continued.

Estel sighed. He supposed that elves were not actually losing their naming abilities at all. 'Silent One' was certainly accurate. Wanting to have a conversation, but knowing that there would be none from his companion, Estel started randomly talking about anything that came to the top of his head; nothing that necessarily needed an answer, but still invited the other to join. Although Dinaer did not say a thing, Estel knew that he was enjoying the soft flow of talk. When their task was done and Dinaer took his leave Estel approached Mereth about the odd young elf.

"Yes, he was the last elfling born here in Mirkwood. He is the youngest son of his seven older brothers and eldest sister…or was anyway. All of his brothers have died in battle one by one and his sister left for the Grey Havens. His last brother had died along with his sister's fiancé when he was still a young elfling. His mother and father were devastated from the loss. When he started his warrior's training his mother nearly sailed. She couldn't bear to lose another son. To save his mother he pulled out of his training and promised not to go to battle. His father was furious. He wanted his son to avenge his brothers and take their places, but Dinaer stayed firm. Trying to dissuade him, his father threatened all the healers or scholars or even servants to not give his son apprenticeship and Dinaer was going through some rough times, so I took him in. He helps here in the kitchens."

Estel nodded thoughtfully. "Who is his father?"

Mereth's eyes darkened as he answered. "Enfin."

-O-O-O-O-O-

Legolas was totally unaware that Estel had been taken out of Ordell's classes. Estel made the effort to run up to the same meeting spot every day. Legolas was extremely glad that Estel had chosen to get back up on his feet. Although he wasn't surprised that he did not participate in the Winter Solstice celebrations. He was however shocked to find Estel sitting on his bed trying to open a bottle of wine…

Legolas snatched the bottle away quicker than lightening and pierced Estel with a disapproving glare.

"Estel I don't believe your father would be very pleased to know you've been drinking. If I last recalled when I was threatening you about responsibilities you were able to wriggle out with the fact you were 'underage'."

Estel's pout was evident. "Just wanted a taste."

"I bet you don't want the ginormous head ache that comes with it though."

The two friends laughed, but Legolas was secretly relieved that the boy was not trying to drink away his problems.

Estel, guessing his friend's thoughts, nudged him slightly. "I really wasn't trying to get drunk you know. Besides, if I really wanted to inflict harm upon myself I could have easily made a poison or helped myself to the numerous weapons I have in this room."

Legolas punched him on the shoulder.

"Don't joke around about stuff like that Estel," Legolas looked into his eyes to let him see the sincerity, "What happened to that almost overconfident, sure-footed, pushy human I first met?"

Estel looked away, staring at the ground. "He's just a little lost."

**-O-O-O-**

Estel steeled himself for the run. He could do this. Leaving his fears and doubts behind him he sped across the branch, trying to ignore the way it dipped lower as he got further along. Just a bit more and he would jump to the next one. Speed was everything here. If he was interrupted…

"Human!"

Estel's momentum was halted for but a second, but that moment of hesitation was all that it took to send him crashing back to the ground. He landed half on his left shoulder and it sent him in a whirlwind of pain. Not surprisingly it was Etre who stood above him.

"You would have never made that jump."

Estel got up gingerly, trying to ignore the aching in his shoulder. "I thank you for the support."

"Well, then perhaps you will duel me?" Apres challenged, stepping into the clearing.

Estel looked slightly confused, hoping that the fall had addled his brains a little. "Wait, how did the conversation go from trees to swords?"

His sword was dropped on his lap.

Apres drew his own and took a few paces from him. "Fight me."

A million thoughts zoomed through his head. Should he do this? More importantly, could he? Apres was fast, but had weaknesses. Estel forcibly halted his thoughts. No, he had to refuse. This was stupid. They were just goading him. This was a trick of some sort.

He felt the steel edge of his would be opponent's blade under his chin.

Estel unsheathed his sword and faced his opponent. Oh well…

They saluted each other with their swords, bowed, straightened and delivered an old elvish phrase for good luck as custom. Both starred each other down before raising their swords into ready positions. Apres went on the defensive, Estel offensive. The battle began.

Estel launched his attack. He knew that if he took the defensive there was less chance he would be able to gain the advantage. He needed to strike hard and fast while he was still fresh. Apres was surprised at how hard the boy could fight, not realizing how much he reserved during practice, but he was a seasoned warrior and adapted to his style quickly. Estel favored his right side since his left was still aching, so Apres pressed his advantage and made each of his strikes come to the right harder and harder each time.

Estel gritted his teeth as he blocked another blow from his left, feeling the vibrations seemingly travel down his arm and to his shoulders and chest to leave his arm weaker and weaker each time. He searched for a strategy. Thinking quickly he slammed his sword down with all the momentum of a full swing. It was easy to see his intensions and Apres braced himself for the high block and the force of the strike. Their blades met, but only briefly for Estel suddenly transferred the weight and force and tilted his blade so it slid along his opponent's edge. Apres became off balance from the surprise stratagem and Estel took the advantage for a slash across the elf's abdomen.

The cut hardly stained the elf's clothes. Apres doubled his attacks and became a lot more wary of Estel. The dance continued. Weaving in and out of each other's move sequences. Estel was hardly able to sneak another one of his tricks in with Apres on high alert. Estel's shoulder was now starting to burn unmercifully and was now resorting to more of a one handed sword battle. He only brought both hands to his hilt was when it was absolutely necessary. Apres saw this divulged his opponents weakness.

Apres had a quick attack on Estel's right, which was dodged, but then gave a heavy sweep to his knees on his left. Estel had no other choice than to low block with the blade facing downwards. It was hard enough to maintain a block like that normally, but coupled with his bad side Estel's blade flew out of his hand and onto the ground. Apres' sword came down upon him and he jumped out of the way. Estel then realized that this wasn't just a test of skills, it was a real fight. To avoid Apres' attacks Estel had to move farther away from his fallen weapon. He needed to gain ground.

There was a tree to his right. It was half bent, gnarled and forced to bow by some storm of wind long ago. It was almost like a ramp. Ramps go up. Estel raced to it, almost as if to flee and Apres wasn't as quick to follow. He ran up the slanted trunk and when he knew he gained the last lift before gravity would pull him down again, he let some of his downward fall give him a bit of momentum before pushing off the tree. Just as his feet left the trunk, he flicked his wrist and felt the small blade press into his hand. Thrown with deadly accuracy the blade flew through the air faster than an arrow. It buried into Apres' sword hand. He dropped his sword in pain and clutch at his hand, rivulets of blood running down his palm.

Estel ran to his fallen sword when he felt cold on one of his legs. It seemed to spread past his skin and into his very blood. It suddenly went numb and Estel collapsed under his unresponsive leg. Estel ignored the bizarre happening as he reached for his sword, its hilt still warm and remembering its master. He tried dragging himself up and managed to hobble up on one leg. Shadows in the trees. Other elves were above him. He saw them carrying buckets of water and understanding dawned on Estel.

Legolas had brought him on a hunt and he saw the enchanted river.

"_That water is dangerous Estel. Magic flows through it. Its victims fall into a spell of dark dreams."_

He spun around too fast, watching one of the elves' movements and fell back onto the floor. His sword was kicked away and Apres' angry face came into view, a bucket in his hand.

"Sweet dreams Estel."

Estel barely felt the wetness of water on his face and hair cascading down upon him when his mind suddenly went blank and darkness overtook his eyes.


	5. Deep in an Awesome Story

**Hey everybody! I hope this wasn't that bad of a wait (cringes inwardly and glares at the laptop). Okay well concerning the votes for the next story…er well at least half the votes were kinda vague. I pretty much have my heart set on Trusting a Betrayal or Fight me if you Dare since those storylines have easy plots and I don't have to spend so much time developing a plot and characters like the Concealing a Wounded Heart and Never too Far Away from Home stuffs. To tell you the truth, Concealing a Wounded Heart will be extremely difficult to write, so I think I'll put that off until summer break. Okay, if you're disappointed in any way I apologize, just suck it up and be patient. Yeah, I've decided to just go the easy way and make shorter chapters, but the updates will come a lot sooner, so yay for that. **

**On with the story!**

_If you are lost in your way,_

_Deep in an awesome story,_

_Don't be in doubt and stray,_

_Cling to your lonesome folly._

Waking came slowly, but the darkness that would greet it was patient. Estel blinked several times, but it was not to ward away the sleep, but to clarify that he had actually awoken. When he opened his eyes there was only the impenetrable black. Fighting down the immediate burst of panic, Estel tried to relax and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. His chest ached from lying on this hard floor for…for…How long had he been here, Estel wondered concernedly as his eyes focused properly and got used to the lack of light.

The first thing he saw was his arm that was lying to the side of him in front of his face. Both his arms were lying extended out above his head, which Estel thought was odd and annoying since it would have been a much more comfortable sleep if his arms were used as cushions. Sighing, he began to pull his arms toward him in order to push himself into a sitting position when a loud clanking echoed loudly through the silence. The alarm and dread flared and he brought his knees up under him to push himself to kneel before a great circular stone pillar in which his arms circled, almost in a hug. The clanking persisted and Estel yanked his arms, already knowing the answer. As predicted, he felt the pressure on his wrists and now could feel the chain on his hands. On the other side of the pillar his wrists were chained together with heavy manacles.

Because of the thick width of the column there was no way he could even see his hands or his restraints. Estel tugged and pulled further, hoping that his thin youthful wrists would slip out of their restraints. His attempts soon became as desperate as they were fruitless. It was a worthless endeavor since the manacles were probably of elven make and were meant to hold lithe figures. Had they been the bulky uncomfortable ones that humans kept Estel would have slid past them easily. Estel was left to lean on the column for support as his hopes of escape were smashed dispassionately. _Have they no pity for me? _ Estel whined inwardly.

As the initial depression wore off and Estel looked around to get a bearing on his surroundings, he noticed this pillar was one of three carved columns in a roughly hewn stone room. Still under the assumption that he was probably held by the elves that had first drugged him he guessed that he was somewhere still in the palace, probably one of the older storage rooms. From the little Estel could see there was absolutely no way out. No light escaped anywhere along the walls that could be a clue for a door.

So in the gloom Estel waited, not knowing that company would come all too soon.

When the door opened and the burning light burst forth Estel had to shield his eyes from the sheer intensity of it. The door was etched into the wall on Estel's right and when his eyes readjusted he could see a glimpse of a larger lit storage room littered with big boxes, but his view was slightly impaired by the elf that had opened the door.

"Hello little Estel," Enfin cooed.

Estel was repulsed as his name fell from the elf's lips. In his whole time in Mirkwood, nearly spanning a year, Enfin had never once specifically referred to him by his name. It was dark and depressing thought that the only time he would call him by name was here as his prisoner in the dark, chained to a pillar and utterly helpless. Estel had to control himself in order not to shrink away.

Enfin tutted softly. "Well, it looks like you've finally ran out of luck, but of course I'm sure you don't believe in that kind of thing."

Estel eyed Enfin warily. "Of course I do. How else could I explain the success of those I don't like?"

Enfin chuckled deeply and Estel felt shivers run up his back from the cold desolateness of the sound grating in his ears.

"You are quite amusing sometimes. Well, whatever it is, luck or some other abstract concept, the forces seem to be stacked against you," Enfin let his hand sweep languidly around the small room.

"I'll get out, there's no way my disappearance will go unnoticed," Estel said confidently.

Enfin smile widened. "Oh no, it hasn't. Why, everyone we can spare is on the hunt for you. Apparently the young prince of Imaldris has finally cracked and made a run from the palace"

Estel was stunned into speechlessness.

Enfin continued, "Yes, a young warrior was injured while trying to stop you and a letter written by you to your father was 'intercepted' and told all about your plans for your escape and your malcontent. It was so easy. By some miracle I found that letter underneath your bed, all I had to do was add some harsh words and your signature. You should be careful of what you whisper to the silent night Estel because you never know if the walls will remember. Legolas doesn't even believe in you now."

Estel's chest constricting painfully as his options became even slimmer. Enfin had planned this carefully, he had been patient and now it was paying off. Although the thing that made Estel sick to the stomach was the mention of Legolas. Enfin must be lying. It was just a trick. It had to be, he was just tying to get to him. It wasn't true, it couldn't be.

His emotions were on a rampage. Denial, rage, despair, fear all clamored to be let out and expressed, but if these long months had taught Estel anything, it was to suppress his emotions enough to think around them. Although, not many ideas were occurring to him now other than to vent. Estel began to curse loudly, closing his eyes as if when he opened them he'd wake up somewhere else…anywhere else.

Enfin wagged a finger at him. "Now, I don't think your father would appreciate those words. What would he say if he were here?"

"I tire of hearing people saying that since it's blatantly obvious that he is _not_ here!" Estel shouted angrily.

"You're right, your precious ada's not here to save you," Enfin tactics became deadlier, "Then again it's not like your family would want to. You're a traitor to your nation, they don't want you back."

"Do not sully their names with your vile tongue Enfin. They have proven to me over and over again for over thirteen years that they love me, no matter what circumstance. It's going to take more than a few poisonous words to destroy that," Estel said passionately, but in the very deepest and darkest corner of his mind he felt those words seep in and snake its way around his heart.

If Legolas had truly abandoned him then thoughts of his family were the only hope he had left. It was _all_ he had left.

Enfin rolled his eyes impassively. "Fine, suit yourself, but time grows short so I suppose we should cut to the point now. There are a few questions I need to ask and I fully expect you to answer them. If not, the consequences will be harsh."

Panic rose within him and his stomach tightened as the realization sunk in. Estel was specifically chosen because of suspected information and Enfin would obviously use any means to get it. Enfin was ready to forcibly extract the information. Estel knew this and he feared it. Above the pain he feared his weakness and what could possibly be a true betrayal of his family. Elladan and Elrohir had sat him down on several occasions to explain to him the burdens of bearing the title to a royal house. He would do this, perhaps as a last token of love to his family.

Enfin mood darkened as he saw the determination solidify in the human's eyes. He knew he would have to do this the hard way.

"Rivendell hides something, something of great power and significance, something that could very well change the course of this world, some important forgotten hero, perhaps a rare trinket of an ancient time, a magical item of some sort, a scroll or map or even a powerful artifact. You will tell me what it is!"

Estel blinked in confusion. Rivendell was a place of history and held a great many ancient and rare things, but things of power? There was none that he could think of. Enfin had also mentioned a person. There was Glrofindel and Elrond, but Enfin knew of them already, so why ask?

"I don't know."

Enfin snarled and slammed his fist into Estel's face, causing Estel to reel unsteadily. "You have lived there almost all your life under the very wing of the lord of the house, there is no way that you can know nothing!"

Estel, still dazed from the blow, stuttered, "N-no, there's n-nothing of what you speak."

Enfin grabbed the chain that held Estel's hands together and pulled hard, causing Estel face to smash solidly against the stone pillar. Spots danced across his vision and his nose started to spurt blood, staining his clothes and dripping down the column. The impact made his head pound, his heart beating in his ears.

"I don't think you get it human! You will tell me this!"

Estel was going to deny it again when his eyes unwittingly widened. Once, maybe when he was ten or eleven, a great storm had hit near Rivendell. Trees were ripped from their roots and massive mudslides covered the land. The river was swollen and homes were being destroyed. Estel had been being held tightly by Elrohir who was too preoccupied by his father who had calmly walked out into the gale; else he would not have allowed Estel to bear witness to such an event. The Lord of Rivendell stepped out and held out his hand which upon a liquid fire was set that cast a light that didn't cause any illumination. It stopped the rains, silenced the thunder, banished the lightening, and ceased the very wind. It was an impossible phenomenon. Estel was not quick enough to school his emotions and Enfin was easily able to see the revelation clear upon his face.

"I see that I shall have to force the information from you. For this I shall need assistance."

Estel looked to the door to watch as Apres and Etre enter the threshold. Apres held something in his hand and Estel recognized it immediately as his assassin's blade used during their brief battle.

"Good to see you again human," Apres said, dragging the knife across Estel's cheek all the way to his ear, garnering a hiss as some of the blood slid down his face like crimson tears.

"Push him down and remove his shirt," Enfin commanded, delighted to see them followed almost enthusiastically.

With one smooth movement Apres stomped down hard on Estel's back, causing him to cry out as his chest crashed back to the stone floor. Apres took advantage of the lack of resistance and hooked his foot under the bottom of his shirt in order to push it up until he pressed down onto the base of his neck and back. Etre practically stood on the backs of Estel's knees, smashing his kneecaps against the stone floor. Estel struggled, but just as he found with the manacles, it was to no avail when fighting against elven standards.

To his side Estel could see Enfin removing his belt. Even though his military service had long ended, Enfin still wore a warrior's belt, its tip plated in metal and the leather thick. Estel's stomach flipped uncomfortably and he continued his struggles with new effort.

Enfin moved to a good position to Estel's back, letting the belt swing back and forth, prolonging the wait. "I suppose your father never beat you, a mistake most parents make. You must discipline them with a heavy hand or else you can never expect them to obey you."

"No, a truly good parent like my father can gain all his children's trust without ever having to resort to that," Estel said defiantly, even from his position on the floor.

Enfin shrugged indifferently. "You will wish your father made you accustomed to its bite before the end."

As the first lash fell, followed by the second and third only seconds after Estel really started to believe that. The initial stinging pain was tremendous, but with no reprieve between strikes the pain did not recede and only grew more and more irritated and inflamed. The lashes crisscrossed to increase the already existing pain on the previous welts, his back reddening steadily from the abuse. Estel clenched his jaw in order not to cry out, but couldn't stop his bodily reaction to jerk and writhe as if to seemingly lesson the pain somehow. The metal tip bit into his skin on occasion and left his skin marked and bleeding. He was breathing heavily and his mind was in disarray, his only thoughts about the burning pain. It began to layer almost as the pain grew and his back became tenderer. After a while you could hardly even see the individual welts, but an angry blossoming upon his back except for the bruising stripes from the heavier swings.

Soon Enfin had nearly beaten the boy senseless and he allowed the belt to stop. As if it meant absolutely nothing to him that blood stained the tip, he began to refasten it about his waist. He motioned for the other two to leave and was pleased to see that Estel made no move to rise. Parting the boy's dark shoulder length hair away from his neck he cut a small 'X' in the skin and poured a forth of the contents of a vial he had produced from his pocket. Estel's eyes rolled as he fell into a sleep full of fluttery dreams. Enfin departed and closed the door, leaving Estel to wake back in the darkness.

_Now you're too close to the pain,_

_Let all the rain go further,_

_Come back and kiss me in vain,_

_Mother oh do not bother._

_.hack/SIGN—stray child_


	6. Wanderings in the Dark

**Gah, I've been busy. Sorry, it was really hard for my to work up enough effort to write something I had already taken pains to write. Oh well, I hope you guys are still with me, I know it's been a long wait, but I promise the next chapter will come sooner since I'm not just repeated crap.**

**P.S. When we revert back to Estel's plight it shall be in first person POV of Estel.**

-o-

Legolas lay on his bed. It had been a little over two and a half weeks now, a majority of that time spent in this exact position. His choices were few. He could either lay here away from his expectant father and sneering court or he could go out and look for Estel. Normally, the most obvious choice would be to search for his friend, but because of current circumstances that option was virtually impossible. If Legolas was to go after Estel then it would be to recover a deserter and traitor. This would lead to him having to detain his friend and, most likely, forcibly drag him back to the palace to be thrown into the dungeon and await an unmerciful trial. No, Legolas would not submit his friend to that, even if it meant doing nothing…

Even if it meant lying here on his bed, not knowing if Estel was hurt or lost and utterly alone. Even if it meant living with the fact that it was a very real possibility that Estel was still in the forest waiting for Legolas to aide him or that his friend had been prey to spiders, wargs, or other dark things. Even if it meant that it would be entirely his fault if Estel was found dead or never found at all.

Although… there was a chance that Estel was sitting at home enjoying the comforts of his family, not thinking of his friend's plight back at the palace he had been so quick to desert. Estel could be at home, laughing while Legolas lay here on his bed, practically being eaten alive by his uncertainty over a friend who did not remotely share the same feelings or concern.

Legolas banished these thoughts immediately, knowing that it was merely an echo of what everyone had been telling him since Estel's disappearance. Legolas wouldn't believe any of it, he didn't want to. Still lying on his bed, he watched the sun rise and fall twice more before noting that it had been three slow and agonizing weeks…for both parties.

-O-

I'm sort of awake. I think I'm still kind of asleep because it's still dark. If I was awake I'd see light. My neck itches terribly. It burns ad irritates my skin, like my back because dragons have been there. I was playing with the dragon and I got burned. I try to touch the skin but my hands are tied because I lost the game with the wolves. The light appears again and I guess I must be awake now and I can see an elf come in. Elves are very tricky. They're like fairies that have lost their wings. A lot of the time I wonder if they miss them, the wings I mean. Who would want to give up their wings? Maybe they've lost the game with the wolves too.

The elf lifts my chin and I feel a trickle of water in my throat and suddenly I'm swimming in it. I like the feeling and I smile, delighted to see the elf smile back, but I can't help but think that his smile is different from normal smiles.

The wolves come back and push me down to the floor. They came back to play their game, but I still feel the pain on my skin and remember that I don't like their game. I start to struggle, but pain bursts anew upon my back, throbbing dully through my mind and stopping my resistance. The first pain is followed by another, then another. I'm not swimming anymore, but drowning. I'm choking, choking on my screams because that's part of the game. The wolves are mad because I play the game wrong, but this is the only way I can play even though I can never win. It's not that I can't win because of _how_ I play, but you can't win anyways when you play against wolves.

The searing pain travels swifter and I know it will only get worse. The elf asks questions, but I bury my face in my arms. He forces my face back to him and I see that he has transformed back into the dragon. That's why his smile isn't like mine. He smiles but he isn't happy. I feel a dribble of blood slide across my heated skin and fall on the floor and the dragon's questions are drowned out by the ones my mind asks me. Why must I play this game if I lose? But something more powerful answers this question, something further back in my head. As long as I play I'm winning, even if it doesn't feel like it.

-O-

"Apres, you are still in no condition to fight. I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to continue in the search," said Iridor firmly.

Apres nodded stiffly and was left in the courtyard as the warriors rode back out into the forest. Legolas, feeling sympathetic since he was also not allowed to leave the palace as ordered by his father, went to comfort the warrior.

"Come Apres, although we have been left behind we should not let our skills suffer. Let us spar a bit," Legolas invited warmly.

Apres smiled and bowed. "I'd be honored."

They took their positions and begun a few simple exercises, Legolas being cautious of Apres' condition. Apres would not suffer the indignity of being babied, however, and began to voluntarily speed up the fight. Legolas, feeling that it would do better to encourage him, met his strikes with equal strength. The match went so well that Legolas had forgotten about Apres' handicap until an ill placed blow to his right hand elicited a surprised cry of surprise from Apres, who immediately dropped both his weapons and clutched his hand. Legolas apologized quickly and demanded to be allowed to see if he had done any damage. Apres, like most elves, was loathe to show any vulnerability and recomposed himself, escaping from his prince's inspection.

"I'm alright, it is no cause for concern. I just--" Apres' sentence was cut short as he grimaced at the pain of trying to re-grip his sword so soon.

Legolas forced him to sit down and rest, ignoring the elf's sheer irritation and mounting anger. They quarreled meaninglessly for several minutes about the state of Apres' health before Apres' anger began to extinguish into many sighs of resignation.

"I'm sorry Legolas, it's just that this is very frustrating and disappointing for me. I've never really had to deal with any kind of disability before."

"I forgive you my friend. It will get better."

"Yes, that is all I could hope for. The healer's say that it was a difficult injury and that I may still have to deal with a slight hindrance in my abilities," Apres said, rewrapping the bandages carefully.

Legolas grew suddenly uncomfortable and chose to look away so as his passive expression would seemingly stay that way. Unfortunately, Apres did notice and began to press the subject.

"Yes, I did not believe the human capable of such a heinous act, but I suppose it is for the better."

Legolas whirled on his friend. "How so?"

"Well, the boy is probably home now or has gotten what he deserves. Either way, not only I, but several others agree that now perhaps you will finally have time for us again," Apres answered slyly, casting a sidelong look to catch Legolas' uncertainty of emotions.

"What do you mean?" Legolas questioned further.

"Now that the human is gone, perhaps you will once again appreciate who your real friends are, we who have stood by your side long before Estel was even conceived. We are your people Legolas."

Legolas was very much inclined to simply get up and leave, but his manners prevailed and he thanked Apres for his friendship and expressed his gratitude before taking his leave. He couldn't help feeling that Apres was right. He had known him longer and Estel's behavior was appalling. Legolas couldn't get the image of Apres' expression of frustration at his deficiency…that Estel had caused. Legolas sped away, not seeing the grim smile that Apres wore.

-o-

I suppose Enfin has grown bored or frustrated with the belt because now he has seen fit to progress me to…Well, they aren't switches, they're too thick for that, but they aren't so thick that they're just big poles either. It actually does not matter that much since it hurts all the same and feels like it's destroying what's left of my body. Whereas the belts plagued my skin, this pain permeates through my entire being. My bones are bruised and it leaves my head spinning. At least this debate distracts me slightly. It's also a kind of assurance for me. This pain, these thoughts, this knowledge reassures me that I haven't fallen into madness and completely lost my sanity to the darkness of both my mind and body. I scream as the wood splinters across my back from the sheer force of the continuous blows. Apres is being incredibly brutal today. Something must be angering him or, knowing his deranged mind, he was happy about something. I don't know what's worse anymore, this pain or the half witted state of mind I am reduced to by Enfin's drug. Either way I lose myself scream by scream. I moan as I feel the trickle of blood run down my neck and back. I can't take it. I don't want this anymore. My options are limited however. Actually, I have no options. Answering Enfin had been eliminated as a choice long before he had begun asking. Well, I suppose I can always scream louder. Then again, that isn't really by choice is it?

-o-

"No, I won't do it," Legolas breathed, leaning across his father's desk, his knuckles white, meeting the smoldering gaze of his father.

"He tricked you Legolas."

"I don't want to hear it father."

"Do not deny what is right in front of your face ion-nin, though it is not your fault. The boy was too weak to be trusted."

"I do not wish to discuss--"

Thranduil's voice overrode that of his son. "Legolas, the boy borke his promise to his nation, to he family, and to you. He is just like all of his race. This is how he honored your friendship."

Legolas silently pushed off the desk, lips pursed, and stormed out of the room, but only done half heartedly. He did hear his father's words and it was starting to affect him more than he cared to admit.

-O-

I curl inwards, trying to hide from the blows. I'm unsuccessful and they continue to rain downwards. I want something. I need something. I want…I want…I conjure their faces in my mind. Ada reaches out his hand for me. The twins go to hoist me up. I can see it. I can see the beckon me. All I have to do is get up. I start a half hearted struggle to lift myself, but I'm sent crashing back onto the ground by a well placed kick to my shoulder blades. Memories of my family dissolve into the darkness; the features of their faces become distorted in my foggy mind. As the beating drags on I continue to summon their faces, their comfort and love. Each time they are smashed by their fists. Each time their faces become a little harder to recall. Are they fading or am I? I grit my teeth as my chest is further abused. They ache and I can almost hear my ribs crunching. I can hear my breathing, it's the loudest thing in the room apart from the impact of skin on skin. My heavy breathes and that incessant clanking. The constant reminder of my bondage. I feel the customary prick and suddenly all other sounds fade and there's just the pounding, not just in my ears, but between them and in my head, drumming…drumming…it's like something. Something outside of this cell. Something I can't…something I can't remember.

-o-

Legolas stood in Estel's still deserted room. It had not been touched since the day he had disappeared, the day he had left. Gritting his teeth and leaving without so much as a backward glance, he shut the door and resolved to never open it again.

-o-

They've left me in the dark again. Always the dark. I've been calling out to them, calling their names, but all I am met with is darkness. I'm screaming for them, but they won't come. I close my eyes as if it will make a difference and I try to summon them. My heart is racing, jumping against my chest and increasing my pain. I need them. I need them so bad. I can't even clutch my head with my hands. I smash my head against the pillar. They're trapped, trapped inside my mind that can't remember. The impact of my face causes me to fall back upon the ground. I cry out again, but no one answers. No one answers because no one is here. It's is just me inside this darkness. I'm alone.

-o-

I'm afraid now. I'm terrified. This one hour, perhaps it is only a minute or even a second, but that doesn't matter because right now in this moment I am myself again. I have long ago stopped seeing dragons and wolves and thinking drunken thoughts. Now there is just the blank nothingness. My days are all mixed together. Mixed together in this darkness and this pain and the…the forgetting. I want to beg, but I don't know what I want to beg for. Do I want to go home? Yes, yes I want to go home. At home there's…there's the faces. The faces that…that I…

The light floods through the darkness, but by now I dread it more than I do the dark. The light only brings pain. It mocks me. It reminds me that there's something more out there. Enfin advances. I want to get away. I begin to try and escape, but it's futile. What do I want? Through the haze of pain I forget even further and even the memories of the faces disappear. All that is left is a bitter desire. Enfin takes out the vial and I know that my sanity is about to be lost. In this last shred of lucidity one thought prevails through my senses. I want to die. I feel the drug race through my veins, my mind goes numb and I forget to be ashamed of myself.

-o-

Legolas mounted on his horse, feeling the familiar breeze on his face. The other warrior's around him watched him carefully and in the upper window of the palace Legolas knew his father also had his eyes trained on him. He urged his horse forward in a fast gallop, knowing his warriors would follow. They were in search of the traitor and only the traitor. Legolas knew this and as he passed the trees he was able to leave his guilt and previous feelings behind, thus he was able to forget to be ashamed of himself.

-o-

The last stage: the whip. It whistles through the air, cutting through it before it meets my already tenderized back. The pain does not dissolve at once, but lingers on my skin. My breathing quickens and my body jerks away, but there's no where to go. Even if I don't see dragons anymore, it still wreaks flaming havoc upon my body. I feel the flame curl around my chest and seep into my lungs, burning my throat and turning to ash inside my mouth. As if to try and relieve me of this fire, sweat dampens my skin and makes my clothes stick. My hair clings to my face and covers my eyes from the twinkling specks of blood that are on the floor.

At last my body gives its final betrayal and I feel the warm tears fall across my cheeks to join the drops of blood across the ground, like a diamonds among rocks. Like stars? The thought is stolen away with another stroke. I don't think there's anything he hasn't stolen and yet he continues this, so perhaps I still have something.

-o-

Enfin looks down upon the boy with a sneer. There was still something left inside the half dead excuse for a human being. Every time he thought he had broken him, he'd look into his eyes and see a faint spark there, although only slightly reminiscent of what it had used to be. Enfin gave a nod to the other two, signaling their dousing cold water across the boy's body. It should do something against infection. Estel had hardly any time to start shivering before Enfin gave him his drug dosage. This would be the last time he would do anything physical to him. Now it was all about the precarious state of mind.

-O-

Why am I here? Do I remember the reason? Is it really of any importance? Yes, it would because then it would explain this nightmare, wouldn't it? How long have I been here? Another useless question. It doesn't matter. What is the point of anything here? There is nothing here. Just me. But there is…something. There's something more. There's something just out of my reach. I want to know. I want to remember. But why? Why all these questions? Why do I keep asking them? Is it so that I will still remember that I want answers? It is fruitless endeavor if I keep answering questions with questions. I want answers, but first I need the right questions. I don't know them.

-O-

Enfin sat at the other side of the door, listening for any sounds. More importantly he was listening for the soft spoken words coming from sole occupant of the room. The boy's unconscious mind was beginning to betray him due to his weakened body and frequent drug doses. It was inevitable. Recently he had been murmuring about wanting to find something. It had grown urgent as of late and he was getting hopeful. Without realizing it Enfin drifted off into his own uneasy slumber pressed against the door. He had been up far too many nights, pushing past the threshold of even elven tolerance. It felt just like a second. One minute his eyes were closed and the next they were open but there was a change. Sun was leaking from the cavern ceiling above. Enfin punched the door angrily. He had a meeting today. He was so close. He dashed off to his rooms at top speed. In his haste he did not notice the vial that had rolled inconspicuously into the corner of the room while he was asleep. It was full.

-o-

Estel opened his eyes blearily. His eyes stung and he felt as if an oppressive heat had engulfed him, making his mouth dry. He hadn't noticed it before. It was always cold before. He had heard something, a banging somewhere. Now he saw something as well. A glint in the darkness. Inching forward he weakly brought his hands about the object and slid it towards him. He would have grasped it but the malnutrition prevented much of his former movements. As he let his fingers roam across the foreign object and its identity revealed his first reaction was to throw it as for away as possible. It was the small blade that Apres had cut him with on the first day of hell, but something held him back. He felt dips and curves across the surface of the blade pressed against his thumb. They were oddly familiar and he continued to follow the flow of the engraving with his finger. He began to draw the picture inside his head and when it was completed remembrance sprang forth like a spring. _Light…_

_Sunshine playing about his face, the smell of the earth and air, falling asleep on the grass knowing that he was completely safe, milky ghost fish in a pond, stars at night winking jovially at him, flowers in full bloom, the spray of water on his skin, his hair lifted by the breeze, copper stones in clear waters, the sound of the wind through the trees, wandering about the forest without needing to find anything, birds singing, and laughter…_

Estel sobbed with the sudden impact. He had forgotten all those things that were good in the world. He had forgotten everything outside of his dark and haunting prison. He felt the second engraving eagerly and knew what it was instantly. This one word helped him remember what made everything worth living for. _Hope…_

_Sitting before a humongous cake on his birthing day and making wishes to the heavens above, having his cuts carefully cleaned by his father, his brothers patiently teaching him how to swim, helping him hold a bow, Glorfindel smiling at his sword performance, ada holding his hand as they went through the strokes of elvish script together, Erestor sounding out the words from the book with him, Elladan smashing his face with pillows, Elrohir getting the blame, being tucked in at night, 'I love you's, forever kept promises, and their sound of their laughter as they sat together…_

The old flame that had diminished was set ablaze once more. It had grown dim even before this place, but now it returned readily like it had waiting for him just like they were waiting for him. It was time to go home.

Estel painstakingly began to drag his body up. This must have been the first time in a long time that he had even made an attempt. He didn't dare think that he wouldn't be able to think of a way to escape and be forced to just lay back down again, he couldn't. The room whirled lazily about as he came back into an upright position, blaring fever and malnutrition as well as inactivity. Now that he seriously thought about it he was never fully able to coherently go through possible escapes. Estel snorted, now that he was able to do so he was at the weakest point of his life, but his desperation would hopefully give him the strength he was so lacking. He tried twisting his wrists through again, once again to no avail, but this time was different because this time he had a tool. Estel stared at the knife laying in his hands and blocking out every opposing thought against it he cut into the flesh of his hand and wrist above the metal cuff. Blood had no sooner began to ooze out when Estel began to smear it across his hands and bonds in an attempt to create a natural lubricant. Working fast to make sure it dried, which was highly unlikely since the cuts continued to bleed, he moved on to the next step of the process. Gripping thebone which connected his wrist and beginnings of his pinky of his left hand between the forefinger and thumb of his right. He did this for two reasons. One, his right hand was the dominant hand and therefore would be more precise in the break and two, for the same reasons the right hand was the better choice to remain unharmed in the event of his escape. He grit his teeth and on the fourth attempt was able to make a clean break. For several seconds he simply breathed and gathered himself. It was a myth that smaller bones hurt any less than bigger ones. Now when he tried sliding the metal cuffs over his hands the bone collapsed inwards and he was able to free himself. It hurt more than anticipated, but Estel continued until it clanged to the floor. Panting and sweating he forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the pillar.

As he stumbled forward he caught sight of what had allowed him to be alerted to the dagger. The door had been left just a pinch open. His hope was short lived however when he discovered that the door would not open readily. Mustering anything he had left he pushed as best he could and thanked the valar for his weight loss and was able to squeeze through hardly more space than he had first discovered. The light blinded him, but he moved doggedly on only taking a few moments to observe the storeroom. It was dusty and the boxes looked to have never been touched. He made his way into a dark corridor lit by torches. It didn't look familiar at all. The twists and turns became one big blur of dragging himself forward.

There were moments where he would just blink his eyes and he would fine himself lying back on the floor. It was like spaces of time would just wink out. Nonetheless he moved on until he found himself standing before a very familiar door. He made his way inside, fortunately meeting no one. There on the opposite side of the room was another door, leading to another room…his room. It looked exactly as he had left it, although the bed looked much more alluring. Estel hastily made his way to the bottom desk drawer and nearly sobbed with joy when he found his 'quill case' in tact. He opened the box and removed the bottom to reveal his prized lock picking set secretly given to him as a gift by his two brothers. Using the undamaged fingers of his left hand he was finally able to rid himself of the manacles altogether, though it took many more tried than it should have. He bound up his broken hand as best he could and sat on the bed, letting the exhaustion finally settle in. There was nothing left, absolutely nothing, but perhaps if he rested a few moments here on the bed. He curled up on the foot of the bed and let his eyes close. Just a few minutes…it would just be a few minutes.

-O-

Estel woke in a sweat, his filthy remnants of a shirt clinging to his skin and his hair strewn across his eyes. Lifting himself up he wiped away the obscuring curtain of hair away from his eyes. He picked up a nearby shirt and quickly changed, not being able to stand the disgusting feeling of the heat and dampness. A sound alerted him to another's presence and he looked up to see…

Legolas

--o-o-o-o-o-o-o--

**BTW, the reason it then reverts back from first person POV to third was because it shows the transition of coherency for Estel. Please review and don't be too harsh. I know this chapter was a whole bunch of junk, but it'll get back into story next chapter, I promise.**


	7. Faded Dreams

**Hello, and welcome back after a…holy shit, nearly 3 year hiatus. Haha, old readers, if any of you are still out there and feel fit to review (probably after rereading the first six chapters), thanks for sticking around. New readers, welcome to the fic I started in my freshman year of high school and am now finishing during my last semester as a senior. **

**Good times. **

**For all those who were surprised to see this story pop up under your story alert thing you owe special thanks to CommicEssence, who guilt-tripped me into posting and also my renewed obsession with LotR. **

**Thank you CommicEssence and others who have reviewed over my hiatus period. One question, how in the hell did you find my fic? Jeeze, wouldn't it be like 25 pages into the search engines and whatnot? Cripes. Not that I don't appreciate your diligence, in fact I'm in awe.**

**Anyways, here's the chapter you've all been waiting for…or just discovered.**

**-o-O-o-**

Legolas hastened to return to his room after breakfast, needing to prepare for the morning's meetings. He didn't give his open door a second thought as he rushed to gather a few documents from various drawers in his desk. He froze instantly when he heard soft shuffling noises behind him. He looked up from his work and felt alarm bells go off in his head. Estel's door was a ajar. He laid the papers back onto the desk and before Legolas had a chance to even thought about it, he was rushing toward the door, his presence instantly met with a pair of silver eyes.

"Estel." Several emotions clashed dangerously. "What are you doing here?" Legolas asked angrily. He didn't know if it was from concern or fury.

Estel instantly despaired at his friend's harsh tone, "Legolas, please believe me. I never left."

"Does it matter? The fact is that you were not here," Legolas snapped.

"No, I--"

"You have betrayed us all. I trusted you!" Legolas knew it was only the bitterness talking, but it had been hard and the ache was reluctant to leave. "My sufferance is of my own fault. However, I have learned my lesson. Humans never change."

Estel made no outward reaction other than to close his eyes and lean against the bed post. As the last vestiges of hope withered and died, Legolas suddenly noticed just how bad the boy looked. He skin was sickly pale, reminding him of the ghostly eyes of creatures that lived in the dark corners of the wood. There were numerous bruises, cuts, and abrasions on his face and skin alone and it took little imagination to deduce that his clothing hid even more. He sat huddled over his left hand that was covered in a wet sheen of blood. What had happened to him?

Legolas felt a wave of shame and regret wash through him. Whatever he had gone through must have been terrible and with no friend to aide him, no friend to even believe in him.

Legolas sighed. "Why aren't you home Estel? Look at you. You can't even take care of yourself. You didn't even bring any supplies. You foolish, stupid, reckless human."

Estel made no effort to open his eyes. Legolas, feeling all his emotions catching back up with him, belatedly felt relief at seeing his friend alive again. He sighed and reached out to touch his friend's cheek.

His hand had hardly come into contact with the boy's cheek when Estel jerked away violently, his eyes snapping open with fear. Estel's heart rate jumped to incredible speeds. That simple press of his face against the bedpost, brought back a thousand and one painful memories. Estel was a rabbit caught alone with wolves at every side. It was fight or flight and he had given up fighting a long time ago. Staggering past his bewildered friend, he made his way through the other room and into the hallway, ignoring Legolas' calls. He was stopped only by Legolas' hand on his shoulder.

"No wait," Estel struggled away, but Legolas continued to hold fast, "Wait Estel!"

Estel mumbled about going home before trying to tear away again. Fate was determined to keep the score unfavorable. Estel was captured: bad point one. Estel got out: good point one. It was time for another bad point. At the end of the hall appeared a few elves, looking for Legolas to inquire on his absence at the meeting. When they spotted Estel there was an immediate yell for guards. Estel felt a chill run down his spine. He was going to become a prisoner again. They were going to put him back in the dark.

He could hear their approach. Estel finally broke from Legolas' stunned grasp and ran.

"No Estel, don't run!" Legolas called, chasing after his friend. Running wouldn't help his situation.

Estel ignored him and fought to get away. The elven guards caught up with him and Estel's attempts became desperate, but he had no more strength left. The guards proceeded to drag him away despite Legolas' protests.

Estel's panicked cries rang across the hall.

-O-

The morning's meetings were postponed in order to attend the trial of the human traitor.

Estel sat alone in the middle of the room with only a desk on front of him, surrounded by Mirkwood's full council and many of its inhabitants also present. The king was in front of him, on his left his son, and on his right Enfin. To Enfin's right was a large elf who had a severe look about him and would be leading the day's proceedings.

"You are Estel, youngest son and heir of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, correct?"

"Yes," Estel responded meekly.

"You are charged with breaking an agreement of legal documentation and assault against the warrior Apres. Do you recognize the charges against you?"

Estel remained quiet.

"Do you deny the charges against you?"

Estel still said nothing. It was useless.

"The evidence against you consists of a letter detailing your desire to break the agreement and escape and several eye witnesses of your struggle which lead to your eventual desertion. At this time--" the prosecutor's lips continued to move, but not a sound was uttered.

Estel couldn't hear a thing. An unnatural silence stole over the room. Estel's breath quickened. It was as if his ears had been lowered into water, but he could hear his breathing and his heart beat. What was happening? The form of the elf swirled across his eyes and Estel began to have the distinct feeling that his whole face was now being lowered into the water. It was like looking at everything on the other side of the water's glassy surface. He could really feel it. His face was getting cold. He needed to take one last breath of air before the plunge. Estel opened his mouth.

"What…," sound switched back on and Estel blinked, the expectant looking council coming back into focus. He slammed back to reality. "I'm sorry, I-I did not hear you."

The prosecutor looked warily at him. "I asked if you had anything to say in your defense."

Shaking off the affects of his sudden loss of lucidity, Estel nodded and looked at the desk, trying to forget that this was a doomed cause. "These charges have been falsely accused. Part of that letter is forged. Although I had written the beginning, it had been at a bad moment in an ill mood, but I had never meant it to be sent."

"Do you have evidence for your claim?" the prosecutor questioned skeptically.

Estel swallowed and lifted his gaze to Legolas, sending a silent plea for help. _If we have ever been friends, now would be the time to prove it._

Legolas stood, nodding towards the elf towards his left. "I bore witness to the event in question. It was I who convinced him to reconsider. The fact that the letter was not properly disposed of was my own fault."

Estel's weak smile was full of gratitude.

The prosecutor stared at him coldly. "If this is true then what is your claim on what has transpired?"

Estel could feel the threat of death wash over him as Enfin turned his gaze upon him. Estel plowed on.

"I didn't escape," the council looked cynical, "I fought with Apres to evade capture. I lost. Enfin captured me. I was drugged and held me against my will." An instant roar rose up from those gathered and Estel tried desperately to be heard, "He has been lying to you, creating dispute and baseless hate against Rivendell for his own gain."

Estel was drowned out by yells, heated debates erupting all around him. The constant interruptions made the words incoherent and quickly turned into racket and unintelligible cacophony. Estel turned about, surrounded by chaos and noise. Indiscernible questions barraged him and every answer he tried to give was immediately interjected by another. Estel's breathing accelerated as the noises sliced through his head, pounding across his temples. There were too many people in the room. Their faces blurred together into a collective shadow of hate and rage. He covered his ears and shut his eyes.

"Stop it, stop it, please," he whispered agonizingly to the desk.

Then it happened again. The sounds ceased other than a distant chime in the background of his mind. This time his whole body had been submerged into the water. His mouth filled with water. He was drowning. Estel gasped, his asthma had returned. No one would ever notice. Estel held his head tighter, gritting his teeth. He needed to relax. He had done this a thousand times before. But what if the next thing he heard would be his sentence for life imprisonment? Wouldn't it be better to die?

He forcibly halted that line of thought. He was past that now. He wouldn't heed those thoughts. He wanted to go home. He only needed to concentrate on one thing: in and out, in and out… His diaphragm reluctantly loosened, thus enabling the use of his lungs. Estel gulped down the much needed air. He laid his head upon the table tiredly. The room winked out and the sounds came back muffled. He drifted away slowly, a lone boat at sea. No one would notice. No one cared.

But there was someone who did care, someone who nearly had an asthma attack of his own when he saw Estel's struggles. When Estel had ceased movement Legolas had thought the worst. He stood abruptly and screamed into the row.

"Silence, silence all of you! Can't you see there is something wrong with him?!" the crowd died down into murmurs. Legolas took deep breaths to calm himself. "Please, someone check on him."

Emheril walked forward and lifted one of Estel's wrists onto the table to check for pulse. The room was in complete silence as they watched Emheril place a hand on Estel's cheek, feeling the radiating heat.

"My lord he has a high fever and…" Emheril drifted off as he felt the boy unconsciously move closer to the physical contact.

"Ada? Ada." Estel sighed softly, clinging to familiar feeling of comfort, easily foregoing reality for day dreams.

Emheril, surprised, quickly drew his hand away. Estel's fingers twitched, searched blindly for it, weakly calling out for his brothers and father.

The room remained silent. People were deeply touched and unsettled by it. The stark realization hit them all in the face. He was still a child. Estel had proven himself very capable of taking care of himself. He was both resourceful and intelligent and had earned his right to be looked at as an adult, but now with all that stripped away they saw only a boy who had not seen his family for over a year and then they could understand. Memories of their own children resurfaced, the king included. The tides shifted and Enfin was now in the hot seat. Enfin's insides boiled with rage. Curse that boy. His pathetic state had won him compassion. This was going to be much more difficult than he had originally thought.

"What do you have to say for yourself Enfin?" the king demanded, cooly.

"My lord, do not mistake my meaning for impertinence, but please do not insult me. I have been loyal to you and Mirkwood when you could not be. Does my unswerving allegiance count for nothing now that an upstart can so easily plant doubt among you with cheap theatrics?"

Legolas ran across him, looking to Emheril. "Do a diagnosis of Estel."

"In public?" Enfin asked, as much astonished as he was displeased.

The king nodded briskly in consent with his son's actions.

Mereth looked to the boy still draped across the desk. "Should not the patient have a say in this?"

"Do it."

Emheril moved cautiously forward, rechecking for fever and dilation within the pupils, although his flushed cheeks spoke enough for his fever. He assessed the normality of Estel's heart rate before moving on to the more physical aspects. He gently pushed Estel back onto the chair and winced when Estel cried moaned in discomfort.

Legolas looked concerned. "Check his back."

Emheril attempted to lift the boy onto the desk and was joined by several of his helpers in the crowd. Estel groaned as pressure was put on his ribs, but was too far gone to reawake. With great trepidation Emheril began to lift up Estel's shirt and revealing a poor sight indeed. Half healed lacerations covered his back. Dried blood stained his skin in splotches all over his back, moistened from his constant sweat. The cuts were only slightly inflamed, meaning only mild infection which was reasonable since none of the cuts were treated properly. The crowd stirred restlessly, a few now looking with anger at Enfin.

"Explain Enfin." The king's tone was less than kind.

"My lord, the boy is delirious. Do I face further insult that you would believe the word of a boy who cannot stay conscious long enough for a court procession over my own? The boy obviously wants to lay blame on someone and I am a perfect candidate. I was the one who brought him here and thus he has always regarded me with hostility. That is more than enough for a motive. Where he has acquired the wounds I can only guess. Perhaps he ran into orcs inside the forest."

"But the wounds are relatively clean," Emheril argued.

"He is a healer," Enfin countered.

"Then why is he running such a high fever without infection?" Emheril pressed.

"Orcs carry dozens of poisons and toxins."

"Which I treat every day. I do not recognize this and it is unlikely that a toxin would not affect his wounds."

"What about human sickness? That is an area I know you are not familiar with."

"Enough!" the king commanded. The two parties fell silent at once. "This will go no further today. We will continue this tomorrow. In the meantime Enfin will be put under surveillance and Estel will be relocated to the healing wards, but is to be guarded at all times."

Legolas worked not to let the utter relief of his father's statement reflect on his features. However, Thranduil could easily guess the feelings his son tried to suppress and was quick to inject the reality of the situation.

"There is a substantial amount of legitimate evidence against Estel. We will review this and come to an agreement on the morrow. The session is over Legolas."

"Yes sire."

Legolas bowed and left the council chambers. There might not have been a spring in his step, but Thranduil was sure he knew where Legolas was off to.

***~O~***

Legolas briskly made his way to the healing wards. The guards let him through without a word and it only took a moment's persuasion to convince the healers and guards to remain outside while he talked to Estel. The boy was in the bed closest to the window. His hand was bandaged and he looked a far prettier sight than before, but the way he stared out at the waning sun still made him seem strained and drawn.

Legolas took a seat on the bed and touched his friend lightly on the shoulder. "How are you doing, mellon-nin?"

Estel's eyes flicked towards Legolas' direction. "A little less sore. My back doesn't hurt as much."

"Estel, about the trial…"

His eyes dropped to the bed. "It didn't go very well."

"On the contrary, there is serious doubt on Enfin now. I apologize that I used your illness in such a fashion, but it worked to our advantage to gain public favor." Legolas sighed in Estel's lack of response, "Estel will you look at me."

Estel pursed his lips and stared out the window again.

"Legolas…when I was trapped in that room in perpetual darkness I had forgotten everything. I had forgotten the trees, the earth, and the sun, but now that I'm here again the colors are dulled, the air not quite as sweet. Even though I'm not there I still feel like…"

"Like you're trapped?"

"No, like I'm…dying," he whispered.

Legolas froze. "Estel…don't talk like that. You're here now and you're safe. Things will work out, you'll see."

"Work out?" Estel repeated bitterly, "Fine, I shall not be executed. Instead I remain a prisoner here. I just want to go home Legolas. Is that so much to ask?"

"Someday, but today it is Estel."

Estel swallowed. "Then tomorrow I fade."

"You are no elf Estel. You cannot fade," Legolas replied sharply, as if his will and logic alone could dissuade the young man from his decline.

Estel lay his head down on the pillow, eyes listless. "Watch me. Thank you for your help today Legolas, your friendship has meant a lot to me and I am sorry to have caused you trouble."

He began to roll onto his side, when Legolas' hand stayed him, eyes imploring him to seek life.

"Estel, stay with me here."

Even through his own despair, Estel could not ignore the raw emotion in his friend's plea.

He conjured up his best smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Legolas. You are right. I-I'll be fine after some rest."

Legolas still looked worried so Estel went to place a comforting hand on his friend's arm when Legolas' frown suddenly deepened.

"Estel…how long have your hands been shaking?"

Estel made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as he withdrew his still shaking hand and brought it to his chest. "A little after Emheril put my bandages on."

Legolas' intended barrage of inquiry was halted by the guard announcing that his time was up. He said goodbye to Estel and was about to leave when he met Emheril in the doorway.

"A moment, Chief Healer, if you wouldn't mind."

"Yes, my prince?"

Glancing back at the bed, Legolas steeled himself for what he was about to ask.

"Emheril, do you think a human could fade?"

The older elf pressed his hands together and sighed. "Anything is possible, my prince. He could merely stop eating and that would certainly give him a slow, but steady death."

"I could get him to eat or even take up his sword again," Legolas said impatiently, "but what I am asking is whether his body could be whole and hale and yet his spirit slip away regardless."

Emheril gazed into the eyes of his prince and already he could see a future where the prince could resist the call of the sea for that of a dear friend.

"I will not lie to you. Whether it is because he was raised by elves or all that has happened to him, I think the boy's unquenchable spirit is waning."

"I see. Thank you Chief Healer."

He turned to leave when Emheril casually inquired about the weather.

Legolas frowned. "It's quite warm. It only just began to turn to summer."

The Chief Healer nodded and turned his back on the prince when he said, "Then I think I shall leave the windows open for the night. Estel could do with the fresh air."

Confused but unsettled, Legolas quickly agreed before taking leave of the healing wards. Such a simple announcement brought upon many a foolhardy plan to the prince's mind, but it would only be deep into the night when he would think of the most foolish plan of all.

**-o-O-o-**

Legolas crept down the main corridor past the dining hall. After a veritable maze of twists and turns he made his way to a part of the storage tunnels that were not lighted by torches. Using keen eyes and his natural glow he continued to trek into the darkened hallway. These were probably the oldest parts of the palace and consequently covered very faithfully in a fine layer of dust that an elf could probably not disturb, but for a sick and ailing human half dragging himself in the semi-darkness, it was pretty clear where the boy had been.

The trail through the dust led up to a storeroom full of boxes of what Legolas thought to be unprocessed cotton. Here there were definite trails through the dust, leading to the back of the room. Legolas searched, but the boxes scattered about the room were encumbering him. Squeezing behind two boxes Legolas knocked something with his foot, causing something small to go skittering across the floor. Escaping the boxes, Legolas bent down to pick up the object to find a vial full of a dark, viscous liquid. Legolas pocketed it carefully and as he stood up again, noticed some wood near the back wall of the storeroom that was darker than that of the surrounding boxes.

Pushing aside boxes he came upon a door that led to an adjoining storeroom, devoid of all light and even though Legolas could not see it, he could smell the lingering scent of blood and sweat. The place was entirely clean, far too clean. Someone had been there before to destroy evidence and since Enfin wasn't being allowed any visitors, he must have had accomplices during Estel's capture.

The room had three pillars, but the one to the left caught Legolas' eye. The base of it looked lighter than the other two and as Legolas drew closer, he could see that the large splotches on floor and nearby wall also showed the same signs of lightening. Legolas ran his fingers over one of the spots and held it to his nose, revealing a sharp acrid smell.

Someone had most definitely cleaned away any traces of blood here. Whoever had been working with Enfin may have thought that clearing an entire corridor of dust would be suspicious, but they probably hadn't thought anyone who found this room would think twice about the room's spotlessness.

Legolas ran his fingers along the pillar, finding rough scratches wound around in a semi-circle around one side of it. Pieces began falling into place in Legolas' mind as he sped back out of the corridor and back up to his room. Those people may have been about to erase the evidence in the storerooms, but there was no way they could have had access to the royalty's wing in the palace.

He entered into his room before making his way into the one adjoining it, searching the floor and there, curled up under the bed were a set of manacles. Sure enough, white scratches ran along the links towards the middle of the manacles.

It was all Legolas was willing to spend time looking for. He whirled about Estel's room, fetching quill and parchment, emptied a box of hopefully not too valuable personal effects, and an empty vial from the Elrondion's healing supplies.

Legolas sketched out a map with written directions to where he had found the storeroom along with his findings, before putting that, extra paper and ink, the manacles, some extra clothing, and half a vial full of the liquid he found into the box, while carefully stowing the other half of the liquid back in his pocket.

Without further ado, he placed the box securely under his arm and leapt out the balcony and onto the nearest tree and ran off into the night towards the healing wing. Jumping into the open window was slightly more difficult than the balcony, but he managed to do so without making a sound and quickly shook the boy awake.

Estel blinked sluggishly, opening his mouth to protest, but Legolas signaled him to keep quiet, before handing him ink, quill, parchment, and clothing from the box.

Estel squinted at the paper, trying to make out the flowing elvish script in the moonlight.

_Write down everything that happened to you while captured by Enfin._

Estel stared at the paper and then at the clothes and finally up into the face of his friend. It wasn't hard to figure out what his friend intended. He tried pushing the clothes away, but Legolas firmly shook his head, eyes adamantly denying any chance for argument.

Estel felt tears prick at his eyes and wind their way down his cheeks as he mouthed, _hannon le_. Legolas smiled and brushed away the tears before tapping on the paper. Estel nodded and to the best of his ability, steadied his trembling hands enough to write, his normally neat hand becoming a wobbly scrawl. Legolas listened attentively for guards. Minutes passed and Estel's hand became shakier and shakier as he attempted to accomplish the simple task, taking breaks between spasms. Just when Legolas was sure a guard was about to burst in the room at the sound of Estel's unbelievably loud breathing, Legolas felt the parchment being pushed into his hand.

He placed it into the box, pointed at the clothes and made a gesture most commonly associated for one to wait before speaking before he sped away again through the window and back towards his room. Placing the box in a secure place in his closet, Legolas packed the minimum amount of gear for travel and made one last leap from his balcony, this time towards the stables.

When he finally returned, Estel was dressed, but already looking quite weary. Legolas considered a few options before gesturing for Estel to climb onto his back. Estel gave him a mute look of disgust.

Legolas raised his eyebrow and gestured first at the window and then towards the nearest branch that was at least six feet away and about a hundred feet from the ground.

Estel let out an imperceptible sigh before holding out his arms like a child wanting to be held. Legolas grinned before turning his back towards Estel and allowing the wiry arms to wind about his neck and shoulders while he hoisted the boy up onto his back and securing his legs with his arms so that he would not slip off. Legolas turned his head in concern at the slack grip Estel held onto him with, searching his friend's face questioningly.

Estel swallowed before tightening his hold about Legolas until he could easily feel the tremors in the boy's arms. Legolas signaled he was ready to go and Estel nodded before laying his head against the back of Legolas' shoulder and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

With the strength and agility of the firstborn, Legolas leaped from the window and onto the branch, but not before it made an audibly crack. Unable to do anything but to keep moving forward, Legolas began to run through the trees with the human clinging to his back.

Back in the healer's office, one of the assistant healers looked up at the sound.

"Master Emheril, did you hear that?"

"No, I did not." The chief healer didn't bother to look up from his herb directory as he answered.

"Are you sure? What if the human is trying to escape?"

"The boy can barely hold a spoon. I very much doubt he devised a way of escaping. He probably woke up and took the pain medication I left on the table and dropped the cup."

"Oh yes, should I check?"

"No, you finish checking inventory. I will look."

Emheril opened the door to his office and walked into the now empty ward. Taking the cup from the table, he emptied its contents out the window and placed it, overturned upon the floor before closing the window and returning to his desk.

"Everything is as it should be?" the other elf inquired.

Emheril smiled. "Yes, everything is fine."

**-o-O-o-**

Legolas finally made it down to his horse and placed the boy on top of it, who simply slumped over the neck of the noble beast, breathing raggedly. Legolas observed this worriedly before leading his mare out past where he knew the usual guards would not pass. He was nearly halfway towards the borders when he heard someone drop to the floor behind him. He flinched slightly and turned to face the captain of Mirkwood's warriors.

"Captain Iridor," Legolas said awkwardly, "I did not know you were on patrol duty tonight."

"Your father figured that covering the northern entrances would insure the prisoner did not escape into the night," Captain Iridor replied neutrally.

"And what do you intend to do now Captain?"

Iridor sighed. "Why now, Legolas? At least wait until the trial is over. By then the king may decide to release Estel legally."

"I fear it will be too late by then," Legolas gazed imploringly at his fellow warrior, "He is fading, Iridor."

"Fading?" the elf repeated incredulously.

"And to speak truthfully, I think he has been for a long time now. I cannot in good conscience keep him from what could save his life."

Iridor shook his head. "Nor can I. There is a spider's nest I asked my warriors to investigate east from here. If you want to make it outside the borders before dawn you better mount up now and ride out."

Legolas grasped the elder elf's forearm in thanks before climbing up behind his friend and holding him protectively against his chest.

"Make haste my prince, I owe that boy my life."

Legolas nodded. "Iridor, when you are asked to search my room, in my closet you will find a box with specific evidence to back up Estel's claims. Between you and your brother, I have confidence that you will get to the bottom of this."

Iridor nodded once before disappearing back into the forest as Legolas rode out towards Rivendell.

**-o-O-o-**

The days went by slowly and Estel spoke very little during the journey. Legolas then began to fear for more than just the withdrawal of spirit.

"Estel, are you well?"

"Just tired," Estel answered automatically.

"You're sweating, do you have a fever?"

Legolas placed a hand on Estel's forehead, but the skin only felt cold and clammy.

"Do you feel sick, Estel?"

Estel chuckled weakly. "Are you sure you won't consider giving up being a warrior and becoming a healer?"

"I think I will have to if I continue being friends with you, _mellon-nin_."

"I am glad you are Legolas, so glad we became friends. I can't thank you enough for doing this for me. I want to say I would have preferred if you stayed in the palace so that you would not get in trouble, but I fear I wouldn't be able to make the trip if you weren't here."

"Don't worry Estel. I will bring you home."

Estel smiled his first real smile in many days. "Do you think ada and my brothers will recognize me?

Legolas evaded slightly. "Why do you say that Estel?"

"I have grown taller since they last saw me."

Legolas laughed, feeling his spirits lift. "Indeed you have, maybe they will have to make you a new sword to match your miraculous height."

Estel pushed him. "Don't tease, prissy elf. Someday I may be taller than you."

"Or fatter. I have seen some astoundingly fat humans."

Estel laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. His hands were still shaking.

Legolas hid his worry by checking on his horse, unconsciously touching the vial in his pocket.

**-o-O-o-**

Although the weather was good, the mountain passes were still riddled with high water streams because of the recent spring thaws. Estel seemed to be more and more drained and Legolas was beginning to have difficulty waking him at times.

When Legolas asked about the drug, Estel only shook his head. There was not much they could do until they reached Rivendell.

Finally, on the sixth day, they reached the woods that would lead them to the hidden city. Legolas went to take the forest road further south, but Estel directed him west.

"It is a secret way my brothers showed me. It is known only to Lord Elrond and his kin and maybe Glorfindel and Erestor," Estel voice grew softer as he began to drift off into slumber once more, "he knows everything."

Legolas looked dubiously into what looked like wild forest. "Estel, how am I to navigate."

"Use the trees, they will lead you," Estel mumbled.

Legolas started forward cautiously and opened himself to the surrounding nature.

'_Voices of nature, guide my way to the haven you conceal.'_

The reception was not the one he was used to.

_He is not of blood. He trespasses. Guard the way. Do not let him pass!_

The forest seemed to darken as the boughs overhead blocked out the sun. The leaves rattled, the many trunks sidled towards each other to create walls, branches weaving together into impenetrable nets. Among the myriads of darkened greens and browns, Legolas suddenly felt disoriented.

'_I need help. Please, let me through. I carry such precious cargo. I must make it to Rivendell,' _declared Legolas determinably.

_Nooo, _the trees determinably whispered back.

Legolas, not knowing what else to do, shook his friend awake.

"Wha? Legolas," he groaned.

"Estel! Awake, _mellon-nin_. The trees are not cooperating!"

Estel groaned again. "What kind of wood elf are you?"

His voice sounded strained.

"What is wrong Estel?"

"My chest hearts," Estel forced between gritted teeth. He concentrated on breathing for several seconds before beginning again. "Can you see any trees with yellow, heart-shaped leaves?"

Legolas peered around, trying to discern between the many blending barks and leaves. Then, with his outermost peripheral vision, did he spot the desired tree. It's golden color, shining through the many shades of brown and green.

"Yes, there is one towards our right."

"Bring me to it."

Legolas brought the horse around and aided his friend on dismounting and half carried him to the tree. Estel's breath was ragged as he placed out a hand and whispered something in ancient Quenya. The tree seemed to shiver as something metallic slid down a branch and closer to Estel's reach. There, hanging by a leather tie was a bronze medallion, bearing the design of a star intricately wrapped around the winding branches of two trees on either side of it. Estel held the medallion briefly in his hand before dropping it to his side once more.

Immediately the forest began to awaken in excitement.

_The fosterling! He has returned. Estel, Estel. Hope has returned to Imaldris! Let he and his companion pass. Make room, the trail must be safe. Go, wood-elf and make haste. The house has saddened without its charge._ _Follow the golden trees. Follow the markers._

Legolas had to suppress the urge to rip the nearest tree into cinders and instead gave the stubborn trees his thanks. Though, it did seem like the tree nearest him seemed to shrink away from his ire.

He sped even faster along the now fully formed trail, every fifty feet or so passing by one of the golden trees, bronze medallions glinting on one of the branches.

"Estel, what are those?" Legolas asked curiously.

Estel ignored the steadily growing headache and focused on the pleasant memory. "They were a gift from my grandparents, so I may use the trail. The trees," he fought a wave of dizziness that left him reeling, "the trees are baby_ mallorns_. They'll never get to be as tall as the ones in Lorien, but still contain the magic of the wood."

"Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn gave you those?" Legolas asked, awestruck.

Estel laughed. "They thought it prudent after I tried running away when I was twelve, fell in the Bruinen and got washed up near the mountain with no idea on how to get home."

"So they planted unsympathetic trees," Legolas said, deadpan.

"They like me."

"Probably because you are always covered in dirt. They might think you're one of them."

"But they hate you, that's all," Estel gasped, "that's all I need to know."

Legolas urged his horse a little faster.

After passing half a dozen more of the baby _mallorns_, he came upon on old bridge that spanned some part of the Bruinen, meaning that they must be only another twenty minutes from the house. On the other side, perched in a tree under which a horse grazed was an elf with chestnut brown hair who turned at the sound of horses hooves on the stone bridge.

"Estel! Thank the Valar you've made your way home."

"Captain Raize!"

The two clasped hands briefly before the elf was nudging the horse forward again.

"Estel, hurry home. I shall sound the signal for your arrival. Don't wait, your brothers may be home yet."

Estel wasn't able to ask what he meant before they were off, the clarion call of an elven horn sounding behind him. On the way there, several other patrols joined them on the way, sounding horns of their own as they crossed the main bridge and into the courtyard of his home. Estel nearly flopped down onto the earth in his haste to dismount.

Almost simultaneously another party of elves entered from the west gate and at the forefront…

"Estel!!"

Two identical bodies slammed into the barely standing edain, pressing hard against him, almost as travel worn as their younger brother was.

Estel's tears ran with the force of over a years worth of sorrows as he held his brothers to him. His spirit rekindled as he was surrounded by the familiar warmth of his family's love.

Legolas smiled as he dismounted, whispering words of praise to his mount. He stood back and watched the reunion as the twins gently lifted his brothers, despite vehement protest, and carried him into the house.

"'Dan, where is ada?" Estel asked, peering around the doors, anxious to see his father.

Elladan exchanged looks with Elrohir.

"He is not here Estel."

**-o-O-o-**

**Reviews are cool and I think I'd get a good laugh if any of the older reviewers chewed me out.**


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